Round the Herne

I have been asked to contribute a set of eleven poems to a forthcoming Moon Books anthology of poetry, so I have been beavering away (hence the lack of musings and meanderings here). A few more left to write, but here's a first draft of a poem about that ginger enigma Loki, written in fornyrthislag metre. Sigyn’s Burden Bound in chains,                     Wolf-child and I Deep in Darkness,                   Silently dreaming. The Aesir sigh,                        They sing of peace Yet the Grey Clan waits,        Grim, unquelled. Poison torments,                     Time d...

Today I took a trip down to the Wolf Trust in Reading with two friends who had never been before. If you're unfamiliar with the Trust, they look after a number of wolves (in safari-style pens) that are sufficiently used to humanity to tolerate them whilst going on walks around local fields. This has become an annual pilgrimage for me and must be about the twelfth or so time I have been there. The wolves are stunningly beautiful creatures, with the most astounding eyes quite unlike any dogs (despite the tendency of people to want to see them as only one step removed from canines). The muscular power of wolves is evident in their every move, let alone when listening to them munch their way through a deer's skull as an after-walk treat! I have a special room in my 'mental palace' (to purloin a bit of nonsense from Sherlock) for wolf myths and legends, which I shall be opening up and adding to this year ~ most likely in February, when I shall be celebrating the Roman fe...