"They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them."
Laurence Binyon
Written in Rock Well Green
Near the town of Wellington
In Somerset
In the Kingdom of Wessex
TA21 9DB
E-mail:
© Trevor Morgan, midday on the Spring Equinox 2004, all rights reserved
Trevor Morgan is hereby identified as the author of this work in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Design and Patents Act in the year of our Lord’s incarnation 1988.
List of CharactersChild Aethelwulf – Young Saxon died of his wounds on Edington field at age of eighteen Cild – A slave boy close friend of Aethelwulf died of disease at age of eight Nan – slave woman and storyteller grandmother of Cild Arthur – dead British warlord, Dux Bellorum Patricus – Saint Patrick of Ireland, who was a Briton from Wales Aneirin – Long dead Bard of the Britons Ida – first Angle king of Northumbria The Thane – old Northumbrian refugee and father of Aethelwulf Haldane Blood Hammer – a young Berserk died of his wounds at Edington field at age of twenty Hel – Goddess of death and the underworld Fri – (or Frigg) Mother Goddess Thor – God of Thunder Tyr – God of War Odhinn – (or Woden) head of the Gods of Asgard (or Asgarth) Alfred – king of Wessex Beowulf – ancient hero king Alric – Saxon smith from Afon Christ – only Son of the Christians' God Loki – God of Mischief and of Change Balder – God of Light, Peace and Joy, killed by his blind twin Hoth Hoth – the blind God, the God of night and darkness Norns – ancient Goddesses, the Fates Skuld – Norn of the future Verthandi – Norn of the present Urth – Norn of the past Satan – the Arch Deceiver and Evil One Gabrel – (or Gabriel) Archangel of the Christian God Mary – Mother of Christ Peter – St Peter, gate keeper to the Christian Heaven |
List of Some Terms UsedFri’s day – Friday Day of the Moon – Monday Christians – followers of a Roman religion, enemies of the pagans Fey – of the Fairies Pagan – Christian term for the followers of the Gods of Asgarth Berserk – (or Berserker) Member of a cult of warriors List of PlacesChippenham – market town and battle site of Alfred’s great defeat Valhalla – Hall of the Gods and Heroes in a pagan afterlife Mercia – kingdom of the English midlands Asgard – (or Asgarth) The realm of the gods Polden Hills – hills surrounded by marshes in Somerset Athelney – village in Somerset and Alfred’s hiding place in the marshes Lyng – Saxon burgh in Somerset near to Athelney Edington – battle site of Gudrum’s great defeat Afon – (Avon) river in the north of Somerset Sea Mills – a hamlet on the banks of the Afon Holy Well – a holy spring in West Somerset List of EventsBirth of Child Aethelwulf – 860 Death Of Child Aethelwulf – 878 Birth of Cild – 860 Death of Cild – 868 Birth of Haldane Blood Hammer – 858 Death of Haldane Blood Hammer – 878 Battle of Chippenham – 877-878 Battle of Edington – 878 |
To those lovely old women who told me tales when I was a child and to all who died in all our wars since the Second World War
This is the second in a series of ‘Wessex Sagas’ and follows on and crosses over the tale of Alfred and Gudrum [1]. Aethelwulf is a younger son of a minor thane, a refugee from Northumbria, living at Lyng in Somerset and serving Alfred the King of Wessex.
Aethelwulf has a happy childhood and his life is ended suddenly at the age of eighteen when he is killed at the battle of Edington. This is a turning point in history and Aethelwulf, mortally wounds the leading Dane to break through their shield wall. While mortally wounded himself, he is crucial to the turning point in the battle.
Through the long night before death both he and the Dane, Haldane Blood Hammer, become reconciled to their various gods.
The tale is all fiction. The emotion of young warriors is not. Trauma and suffering are constants over the ages. Love between parent and child is constant as is grief.
The core theme of these and other works is human emotions as they react to trauma.
I am attempting more modern themes based upon a war in which I was peripherally involved called 'The Saga of Sabah'. This has been too hard and too personal as have been descriptions in narrative verse of the Battle of Jutland in which my grandfather's generation fought. Both are too close to be handled with ease but my attempts on them continue.
Our nation's history is, like that of Rome, a history of war. England was forged in the wars between Briton and Saxon then Saxon and Dane and completed by those bloodthirsty bureaucrats, the Normans. While it is a little more complex than '1066 and all that' the gist is that our history has been bloody and many young lives have been blighted by strife.
There is no message, no, nor any sermon. There is narrative verse that seeks to describe feelings and emotions in an historic, if fictional setting.
Purists of this period may note that there are errors in accuracy in some myths. I have chosen to have the Norse God Balder killed by ivy wood and not by mistletoe. This is author's licence and is based on the fact that I like ivy as a plant and I like ivy honey. Mistletoe has not as yet moved me to write a single verse. If this offends any modern day pagan I apologise – no sacrilege is intended as your faith and all faiths, I hope, are respected in my works.
I have found the Norse gods to be more emotionally vibrant to write about. The Norse pagan religion was full of passion and feeling even if it was capable of excess. Christianity is not as easy and there are differences between modern Christians and Christians of this period. Some churchmen at that time had no difficulty with preaching bloody revenge in a manner that might horrify their modern brothers and sisters. I have omitted most of these differences from these sagas.
Trevor Morgan
Rockwell Green, Beltaine, 2005
Child Aethelwulf played with a friend
Beside a reedy mere
His youthful play was soon to end
The carrion crows were near
Their childhood songs could sing about
The birds within this land
They knew not of the coming rout
The Raven [3] was at hand
"Gabble, gabble little Crow
There is something we would know
For we don’t see a reason why
You drop bad luck from out the sky
Silent strutting great big Raven
You seem to turn the brave to craven
We still don't know the reason why
You want to make the orphans sigh
Oh, Jackdaw you eat the dead
So you must have a heart of lead
We'll never know the reason why
You have eyes that never cry
Magpie you deceitful bird
Your voice is so often heard
You deserve to feel true grief
Because you are a wicked thief
So babble, babble all you birds
Though you do not speak in words
You bring omens from the sky
Yet we all know that we must die"
His years of childhood had been grand
He’d learned of many a thing
Yet with disaster close at hand
He’d go to serve his king
But here beside the streams and reeds
He had much time for play
They’d act out all the bravest deeds
When they could romp all day
Young children played in fields about Old Lyng
They played upon the mudflats all about
With joyful voices you could hear them sing
In boisterous play you'd hear them laugh and shout
Young Aethelwulf and all his friends would roam
About that magic landscape on warm days
All of these mystic lowlands were their home
They would sometimes bask in the sun's warm rays
And climb the old ash tree up on the Mump
They'd sit in high up branches and they'd talk
On running home they'd play at skip and jump
Young boys it seems are rarely seen to walk
All loved to think of what one day they'd be
They were still young so they could still run free
They played the games that they were shown,
To play when young's no vice
They'd cut up bones [4] into five stones
And also into dice
They played games that we still can name
Hop scotch and blind man's buff
The joy of play remains the same
No child can get enough
They'd rampage over field and fen
They'd chase the waterfowl
They were not then grown to be men
So they could scream and howl
They'd play that game of rolling stones [5]
With round stones big and small
The winner grins, the loser groans
As they all shout and call
Sometimes they'd play at war and strife
They'd play with wooden spears
As play prepares us all for life
These were not wasted years
They’d skim flat stones across the streams
They’d hunt birds with the bow
They’d talk about their childish dreams
For how were they to know?
Soon Wessex was to face the rage
Of Norsemen in the land
Some may live old to be a sage
When Death’s not close at hand
Because of wrongs done long ago
The Norsemen sought revenge
These playful boys were not to know
That Danes were near the Henge
With part of Wessex overrun
And Mercia crushed and lost
There would be much now to be done
Young men would bear this cost
But how could Aethelwulf foretell
That his king would be "Great"
And how to Heaven or to Hell
The young are called by Fate
The best and fittest men of all
Are used to fight in war
And Aethelwulf would hear that call
Its like had gone before
Avalon to the East of Lyng
Was a special place
There lay the past and future King
Who had been called to Grace
He sleeps there with his Lady fair
A guardian of our Land
Morchan's in the waters where
Her magic is at hand
The whole place has a Magic Ring
A music all its own
It's here all hear the song thrush sing,
Here no soul is alone
Small wading birds pace through the reeds
They tiptoe to and fro
Small fish hide between the weeds
There's more here than men know
There's spirits all about this place
Not spirits of the dead
But spirits in a state of Grace
Or so it has been said
The Britons of this marshy land
Had died so long ago
At Dyrham [6] they had made their stand
When Saxons were the foe
Reeling then from happenstance
Battered by bad circumstance
Here they chose to languish not
None of the wrongs may be forgot
There will be no sad distress
No, nor rotting bitterness
No – there will be no writhing
Against what’s done, they choose to sing
While they've been harmed by old past strife
They plan a future happy life
Yes, there’s been some injury
Caused by much fickle tyranny
So what if life has turned bad
Damn it, they will not feel sad
They know what the past has cost
And how so much is gone and lost
They know about their attack
And they know that we may hit back
They choose to live by the sword
"Vengeance is mine", said the Lord.
There’s Rosemary for remembering
The wrongs must be put right
The guilty will be trembling
From living with their fright
The slaves who toiled about this place
Came from that ancient stock
Defeat brought such a sad disgrace
Where victors boast and mock
But now the wheel had turned once more
Invaders came again
In chaos none may rest secure
And hearts must bear the stain
All men are brothers we are told
Though it may seem a fable
For long ago in days of old
Cain had butchered Abel
In Norse tales too a blind god slew
His twin the god of light [7]
In fratricide there’s nothing new
For men and gods will fight
Now Hoth was blind, dark and unkind
Though Balder was his twin
In deep recesses of his mind
He hid his urge to sin
All pity drove him on to hate
He cursed his sightless eyes
He loathed the foul deceit of fate
And so he lived by lies
So he learned to put on a smile
Put 'Kindness' in his voice
When young he’d learned the art of guile
One day he would rejoice
Both gods and men he learned to use
Deceit was his fine art
His life was counter-move and ruse
He lived without a heart
An actor on the stage was he
His role he knew full well
And he so hid his inner glee
As he sent men to Hel
When tears flowed from his sightless eyes
How he put on a show
About his crimes he told sweet lies
There are so few who know
Who know how he is dark within
Who have felt his cold hate
The victims of each wicked sin
Know his stark soul – too late
This god of darkness hates all light
He hates all who can see
Few living victims of his spite
Survive now or are free
They know how he can hide behind
His eyes that saw no light
He hides that spirit so unkind
He hides his wicked spite
In victory there is certainty
We know who won and lost
We know who gains the sovereignty
We don’t know at what cost!
In histories blame is thrown about
As winners write their lies
Through clouds of time we’re left with doubt
And far too late – we’re wise
The ebb and flow of wrath and woe
The hate that sows its seed
In righteousness each kill their foe
The young and good must bleed
Those who survive their hearts are marred
So they will then strike back
With souls that have turned cold and hard
They plan each sneak attack
Away with righteousness right now
Away with each excuse
Let us all make this simple vow
Not to let hatred loose.
Young Haldane [8] led a healthy life
On conquest you're well fed
There's profit in both blood and strife
And goods of men who've fled
His father was a fearsome Dane
His mother was a Scot
He's taught to purge a Christian stain
And no wrongs were forgot
He was a wild and fearsome child
Taught in the ways of Thor
Yet with his friends he could be mild
For that's what friendship's for
There was a spirit, it dwelled in that tree
For there are spirits in all things that breathe
And there is much that young children may see
But as they grow up they cease to believe
Spirits and fairy folk are all around
In the heart of the child there is true glee
And everything's new with each shade and sound
And there is true joy when they may run free
Mists of mock mysteries swirl all round, about
In play you may die then get up once more
Then rampage, romp and scurry there about
Playing children do what's been done before
Trees and their spirits live longer through time
Yet they are there for each young child to climb
Gaily young children can play every game
Joyfully boisterous they romp in the field
Through much of history it has been the same
Who believes happiness should be concealed?
Joyful exuberance in every child
Helps the young grow to be formed and complete
Though some may grow wild and some may grow mild
All start as babies that most see as sweet
Adolescents though may cause us some woe
Be awkward and shy or ever ask "Why?"
Yet so constant the change as the young grow
No longer the need for sweet lullaby
Starting the journey from cradle to tomb
Should not be years that are blighted by gloom
Now two boys who lived far apart
A Saxon and a Dane
While both may have a playful heart
Each bears a different bane
Two cultures shared a common root
That parted long ago
But each now bore a different fruit
And were each others foe
The Saxons seemed all Christians now
The Danes had their belief
And they were tied to an old vow
To bring the Christians grief
Haldane's Uncle had a clear view
Taught him to go Berserk
Taught him to Fri all must be true
As we do Odhinn's work
"These Christian curs had done such harm
They blasphemed Asgard's host
So go seek out each magic charm
And yearn to kill the most
While wisdom is not for the young
A few gain it with age
Most of the dead they are unsung
They’re not on history’s page
They sowed their seed in women foe
Put young Danes in each womb
These Christians have caused our past woes
Now with our bairns they'll bloom
With bairns all lives can be made sweet
Each mother is as Fri
Like earth gives birth to what we eat
With bairns no line need die
Odhinn had sired Dear Fri's twin boys
The Gods of Dark and Light
As mothering brings us most our joys
We know our gods are right!"
And armies of the unsung dead
Have had to pay the price
And so the crows have been well fed
For Power is a Vice
The Danes they sought their dominance
Against a Christian foe
It’s now part of our provenance
Our lands have seen much woe
Each time alarms are sounded out
Our young rush to the fight
It matters not what it’s about
Are we not always right?
The foe may reign in foreign lands
That’s where the foe will reign
In all our wars we’ve willing hands
No matter what the pain
Young blood is hot and questions not
As we have faced each war
And though the dead may be forgot
Most kings end up secure
And Alfred and Gudrum would live
As kings until they die
The young who had their life to give
Will not hear great kings sigh
The stream seems to chuckle
As it flows round the stones
The foal starts to suckle
‘Neath pine with its cones
The waters flowed here
Through the aeons of time
The wagtails appear
And seem in their prime
While water weeds wave
In the currents below
The Wagtails won’t brave
The stream’s deepest flow
They’ll feed by the edge
Or by every stone
Then flee to their hedge
When they’re not alone
There’s moths on the bark
Of the lofty pine tree
There’s a song of the Lark
It’s good to be free
Through long years Aethelwulf would play
But he was taught much too
He had his lesson each weekday
Was taught the Christian view
Their creed it's said was for all men
Church sought to save the lost
They taught him of those times back when
Good martyrs bore the cost
They taught him of good Boniface [9]
Who cut down Odhinn's tree
Danes called this 'a foul disgrace'
The Church would disagree
So two traditions had grown up
Of Wilfrith and his life
Some said he drank the martyr's cup
Danes said he caused all strife
Aethelwulf was taught by the Church
The Christian creed he knew
Men don't leave Faith there in the lurch
Where they believe it's true
He took communion from the priest
His faith was not that strong
On his last day it was increased
For now he went along
He went along with what was taught
He learned to know the creed
He did all the things he ought
Though he felt no strong need
As Aethelwulf skimmed one flat stone
On that last day of play
He felt so wan and all alone
Old friends had gone away
He thought of times when he was small
With slave boys he had known
Those days of joy he could recall
Now he stood here alone
It’s not for us to understand
The way that things work out
Whether we’re so full of faith
Or deeply rift by doubt
Our understanding’s not complete
Despite how hard we try
Events are never really neat
So still confused we sigh
Most of those boys were now long dead
They’d died of some disease
The venom of the worm [10] it’s said
Comes in you when you sneeze
But young boys do not always do
What has long been decreed
And those who live are left to rue
Each little small misdeed
Young Cild and Aethelwulf had been
The closest friends could be
That slave boy and himself were seen
To play so full of glee
They sat in the ash tree
On top of the Mump [11]
They dared one another
To swing or to jump
They rolled down hill
Ran back up again
It was all such a thrill – /P>
They weren't grown up men
Some times they would sit there
And talk half a day
In a life without care
All children will play
That magic old ash tree's
Long gone from the Mump
And an old man will wheeze
And feel his heart thump
That ash tree had stood
Near for many a year
Cut down for its wood
There was a stump here
All things have their day
All things have their worth
Then stumps rot away
Returning to earth
Yet, more trees will grow
They'll sprout from the ground
There's so much to know
As time turns around
More children will climb
This new growth of trees
So they in their time
May play as they please
Young Cild had stories from his Nan
That he told on quite well
In this a true friendship began
And there was much to tell
And many children would sit round
His old Nan in her room
They’d sit cross-legged upon the ground
There in the dim lit gloom
The old slave woman had such tales
Tales of much fairy lore
She knew this land and all its ails
And what had been before
She talked of dryads in each wood
She knew each fairy glade
And every child here understood,
Old Nan they all obeyed!
"Now there are fairies in each glade
They're by each tree and brook
Some dwell beneath the ash tree's shade
You'll see them if you look
The young and old may see the fey
But only if we're kind
There are grown men who talk to them
But they have lost their mind
Beware the fairy folk please do
And don't go to their hall
For they may play such tricks on you
That you could cry and bawl
Content yourself to watch the fey
But do not heed their speech
Then you'll come home at end of day
And not be out of reach
The fairy king he likes young maids
Yes he likes having them
And where a maid has gone with him
No maid comes back again
The fairy queen she has tirades
Each time a flower's lost
She scolds the king with oaths so grim
But wenches bear the cost
The children who may come by chance
Can be blamed on the fey
Ah, wench you've led a merry dance
When you romped in the hay"
Nan told of Arthur long ago
Of Patricus the Saint
She told of all who come and go
Her speech was old and quaint
She even knew Aneirin's words
She could speak his old tongue
As sweet as any song of birds
Some of these words she sung
"Aneirin wrote an elegy
To each of his dead friends
At Catraeth through their strategy
His people’s history ends
When all of the Gododdin fell
Their names would not be lost
Aneirin in his verses tell
Of his people’s holocaust
The Angel host behind each shield
Had withstood their attack
That firm shield wall that did not yield
Each stag fell to the pack
There Ida’s line [13] from Bamburgh Head
Established dominance
From Catraeth where the soil’s soaked red
Those Angles would advance
The lonesome bard was left to write
Gododdin’s elegy
The soul survivor of that fight
A dismal destiny
So sadly then this bard would roam
Lamenting his dead friends
And how his Briton’s lost their home
The story never ends
The Briton’s blood, the Briton’s soil
Had been merged into one
Their children would be left to toil
As slaves to those who won
But are those Angles known by name
Those men who won that fight
Without a Bard to sing their name
They have been lost from sight
The Angles had some power then
To dominate that land
Yet Bard’s words are remembered when
Old Glories turn to sand
Each elegy Aneirin wrote
Describes a long dead man
He does not rant he does not gloat
Of chaff before a fan
For each one seems a close dear friend
And fit for sad lament
And now their fame may have no end
Bard’s words do not relent
The Poet and the Bard are here
To keep the dead alive
Defeated peoples find some cheer
Where their great deeds survive
A conquest by a stronger foe
Whose names are lost in time
Will let the future’s children know
All conquests are a crime
For peoples and their lands are one
United, blood and place
Despite all of the wrongs been done
Defeats and past disgrace
Gododdin are still in this land
As stubbornness still shows
They’ve mingled through time’s flowing sand
As onward their line goes
At Catraeth British warriors died
The Bard has told their tale
Though widows and their orphans cried
Their bloodline did not fail
The blood line's here and it stays strong
It's here within this land
Despite who’s right, despite who’s wrong
There are new Bards at hand
Aneirin wrote of real things
All Bards should do the same
When of the past the singer sings
Old heroes live again"
Nan knew each Christian saint and sage
She knew each pagan tale
She knew of many a time and age
She knew how to regale
Good storytellers will enthral
All listeners young and old
And Aethelwulf could now recall
The stories old Nan told
He knew the gods the pagans know
He knew of Fri and Thor
He knew of martyrs long ago
He knew of so much more
All pagans had their Mother Fri
The Mother of us all
And Mother Earth may never die
Despite a false creed's call
Her soul though full of joy and life
Her children fought and died
Throughout the turmoil and the strife
Earth Mother lay and cried
She cried the rivers and the sea
She cried the falling rain
She sighed the gales that bend each tree
She sighed through all her pain
She had done nought to cause this pain
Her bounty she gave true
Earth Mother though she bears our bane
And she's so good to you
All Christians had their one sweet Lord
Who died that all may live
The world must live in sweet concord
All must love and forgive
Child Jesus walked the world of men
For he came to bring Grace
His is here in each hill and fen
In every smiling face
But though he's tried throughout the years
Who has cared to listen
And so his eye's they weep salt tears,
In the sun they glisten
This one son of the one true God
Has died to save each soul
It was upon this world he trod
So that each could be whole
Where Christians saw the day and night
The pagans saw two gods [14]
One blind and dark the other light
Who seemed to be at odds
In Asgard Fri had felt that Fate
Projected Balder’s end
And though she tried it was too late
To Hel he would descend
She sought a promise from all things
She gave to each a charm
That neither blow nor thrown from sling
They could cause Balder harm
But ivy there beneath Fri’s feet
Was mute in silent awe
Her promise it did not repeat
And this Lord Loki saw
In conversation Loki told
The dark Lord Hoth this fact
Though Hoth he had a heart that's cold
Lord Loki had no tact
He knew the scriptures of the Church
He knew that Christ was king
He knew his life should be a search
For God in everything
His faith may not have been that strong
For he'll not be a priest
But like the flock he went along
'Til his faith was increased
He was taught that there was one light
That shone for all to see
And those with eyes might see this sight
This was man's destiny
When Jesus brought light to the world
Foul men would snuff it out
Then Satan's banner was unfurled
For his foul gift was – doubt
The light of faith may guide all to
Sweet respite for the soul
Foul doubt may leave us all to rue
In Hell we pay the toll
The light is there that all may see
The works of our good Lord
And Christ is there to set us free
There can be no discord
The priests and Nan had filled his mind
With such contrary facts
He now felt lost, like he was blind
Between these tales and tracts
His heart told him not to be grim
For he was still a boy
True horrors had been kept from him
He’d lived a life of joy
When Cild and Aethelwulf were eight
The dear slave boy had died
Grim are the hands of awful fate
Young Aethelwulf had cried
The Thane knew that he could not bring
Some new friend for his son
Grief was for him a natural thing
And had its course to run
The restless heart will sigh again
The restless heart will mope
And all of us can feel the strain
Or some of us lose hope
The wandering mind may soar again
The wandering mind may cope
Then none of us need feel the strain
And none of us need mope
For wandering minds will find new ways
As they seek new insight
While wandering to the end of days
They’ll take us to the height
The heart may soar with hope and faith
Or seek to love and care
And sometimes haunted by a wraith
May slump into despair
Then restless hearts will cry again
And restless hearts lose hope
The mind is there to bear the strain
The mind is there to cope
But restless minds may sigh again
And restless minds may mope
And all of us can feel the strain
And some of us lose hope
Then faithful hearts may soar again
Then faithful hearts may cope
Then none of us need feel the strain
And none of us need mope
For faithful heart and wandering mind
May well be poles apart
No matter what new thoughts we find
We do all need a heart
The venom of the Worm had brought
Death to some children here
The Grace of God he had been taught
Might help us live with fear
Fear that our child might be among
Those chosen by old Fate
To be with those who must die young
Here in our mortal state
Things are just as they are
Each ought do what they can
Some say fate's in the hand's of God
And not the hands of man
Things are just as they are
Some will do what they do
They may think they're the hands of God
And right when they wrong you
When deadly deeds are done
All ought do what they can
For fate's not all the hand of God
Pre-destined in a plan
Free will is there as well
In much of what we do
That's our fate from the hands of God
To choose is up to you
To have choice is our fate
Each must do what they can
Free choice is from the hands of God
Pre-destined in a plan
Pre-destined then to choose
We should not make a fuss
Some may think they're the hand of God
And right when they wrong us
To have choice is not bad
Nor good beyond our ken
Badness is not the hand of God
But wrong choices of men
Now what will be will be
So when we right a wrong
We may think we're the hand of God
And justice makes us strong
But who are we to judge
Each must do what they can
Justice is in the hands of God
And we don't know his plan
For as we right a wrong
New wrongs we may well do
Vengeance is in the hands of God
It's just not up to you
Things are just as they are
Each should do what they can
Some say fates in the hands of God
And not the hands of man
So predestined to choose
With choice our destiny
We don't know if we win or lose
So what will be will be
But well-fed children stood more chance
Than children of the poor
Whose souls join in that doleful dance
Death leads them through his door
The spoiled child may rant
The spoiled child may scream
Spoiled men are underhand
And they will plot and scheme
The spoiled man must win
The spoiled man must rule
No matter how they sin
No matter they’re a fool
From ranting through to schemes
From screaming through to reigns
They’ll trample on your dreams
And get joy from your pains
They’re psychopaths within
And they were made that way
When parents just gave in
To have an easy day
When spoiled children rant
When spoiled children rage
It’s time to say "You can’t"
Don’t make them centre stage.
But Aethelwulf was never spoiled
His parents would not yield
They saw to it he learned and toiled
With book and sword and shield
The boy too spent much time with Nan
Cild came to him in dreams
For all find solace where they can
Though not all’s as it seems
For when he slept his dreams were long
With Cild he’d romp and play
The two of them were full of song
Those dreams seemed here to stay
And willingly he’d go to sleep
And dream the night right through
In landscapes sweet he’d run and leap
Cild’s friendship was so true
Sometimes they’d sit there in that land
Ghost Cild had much to say
His tales resounded great and grand
He’d talk ‘til dawn of day
Down there by where the small stream flows
It’s damp and shady too
That’s where the wild Narcissus shows
Its sunny yellow hue
Its face looks down t’wards the ground
Its leaves all look upright
There bumble bees will buzz around
Through dappled rays of light
So seeming shy it flowers there
Within the semi-shade
Narcissus does not have a care
Nor debts that must be paid
Narcissus is a flower, that’s all,
Within a habitat
And sorrow does not come to call
For flowers don’t feel that
If pain and sorrow is in us
We can’t externalise
Plants aren't a part of all our fuss
In time we may be wise
To Aethelwulf one night he said
"You have a task to do
For I am dead so in my stead
This task must fall to you
You must train hard with sword and shield
A horse shoe nail you’ll be
For if this land is not to yield
Your life may keep it free
For there are times when little things
May alter big events
They cause the rise and fall of kings
Have mighty consequence
'Til death us two will meet at night
Here in this land of dreams
You have no need for fear or fright
Us Norns have wove our schemes"
"That’s pagan talk" the boy replied
"God’s will then if you please
Each in their way are crucified
Before they gain true ease
Your fate is out beyond your reach
An axle pin you’ll be
Now learn all that your Thane may teach
So Wessex may stay free
With loud alarms and clash of arms
It’s cool heads that may win
Though you’ve no need for good luck charms
You’ll battle with great sin
There is devotion in your heart
It’s what drew me to you
Though in foul strife you must be part
You will be good and true
True to your Christian God of love
True to your land and King
Peter [15] awaits you there above
You’ll hear the Angels sing
Gabrel [16] and all the host will know
How you fought for the Church
Yet there are men among your foe
You’ll not leave in the lurch
You must not kill a wounded man
Though pagan and a Dane
Content yourself, it’s all God’s plan
Your soul must have no stain"
The place seemed strange where this was said
The land of dreams turned small
In his deep sleep there in his bed
He heard a distant call
Ghost Cild got up and went away
Yet seemed to smell so sweet
Though dreams fade with the dawn of day
That scent would not retreat
On waking he would say farewell
Though dawn each day seemed strange
It seemed he could still sense that smell
It stayed with him each day
Cild could have grown to ground the flour
To toil in Cheddar Mill [17]
To labour every waking hour
A future bleak and chill
For slaves were held in low regard
To kill one not a crime
Their toil was constant long and hard
This had not changed with time
The great men in their splendour
Each with a great estate
Forget life’s thread is slender
Forget the hand of Fate
The Will of God’s forgotten
Some are puffed up with pride
Such fools are misbegotten
And easily swept aside
New men may rise to splendour
And gain a grand estate
The strong are rarely tender
And may be held in hate
So great men in your splendour
Each with your great estate
Remember to be tender
Before it is too late
One day Nan talked to Aethelwulf
She told him of a time
When Saxons came and took this land
Back in some early time
This land has seen so many things
This land was special too
With each season here that brings
New patterns into view
The winters may be cold and damp
With dawns so clear and bright
Old joints may feel an aching cramp
Before this lovely sight
The Ivy sets its seeds deep in
The winter of the year
Its seeds it hides not through its sin
Nor through its lack of cheer
It grows upon a tomb or tree
It grows on graves and wall
Its spirit will not yet be free
Because of Balder's fall
The Holly is green all year too
But does not share the shame
The ivy is now left to rue
What Hoth did to its name
The springs are varied every year
The land comes back to life
Yet while this should bring only cheer
Sometimes it brings us strife
The blackthorn is flowering
Its blossoms are white
The petals are showering
They bring such delight
The paths and the roadsides
Are sprinkled with white
But nothing abides
All passes from sight
The hedges go green
When white blossoms gone
But they’re verdant and sheen
So let’s not feel wan
Yet wars start up on warmer days
Men die as life returns
Some rage here in the Sun's sweet rays
And no one ever learns
The summer may be warm and dry
Or may be wet with rains
And widows may be left to sigh
As victors count their gains
So over lording thugs decree
That what they do is right
And so few men can now be free
Some cringe before this might
Betrayal and deceit are here
For weak men can't attack
This constant struggle brings no cheer
The strong must watch their back
The autumn brings us grain and fruit
A bounty from this land
And each child who was sweet and cute
May hold sweet fruit in hand
The ivy’s in flower
It’s covered in bees
In the afternoon hour
As we take our ease
While these nights are chill
The days are so fine
And bees can’t be still
For ivy’s a sign
Last flow’rs of the year
The last nectar flow
The cold's creeping near
And warm joys will go
Ivy flowers done
And with no more bees
The cold will have won
No more out door ease
Ivy honey’s here
So clear and so pure
The best of the year
So cold has a cure
The autumn brings us grain and fruit
A bounty from this land
And some child who was sweet and cute
May not grow up as planned
There’s flurries of leaves that fly on the gale
And dark clouds above as some crows fly by
Tops of the trees seem to whip and to flail
A tormented scene against the dark sky
The seeds of the ash now fly from the tree
Leaves dance along the base of the wall
Those elms seem to thrash so torturously
While plaintive is heard a lonesome bird’s call
Winter’s not here though it won’t be long yet
The sun though it glows now brings little heat
And there in the storm, the rain and the wet
With mud on the knees the ankles and feet
There walking below some may not see Winter
As boughs of an old elm may then splinter
The autumn brings us grain and fruit
A bounty from this land
And this child who was sweet and cute
Grows with his sword in hand
Butterflies in October
The nectar’s flowing still
The mind becomes quite sober
As late warmth brings a thrill
The butterflies may soon die
When nectar’s flow soon ends
In the winter months we’ll sigh
We’ll miss these lovely friends
It's said we reap what we have sown
A child becomes a beast
For we all learn from all we've known
Now wrongs may be increased
As righteously we right a wrong
Another wrong we do
When chaos whirls us all along
We end up black and blue
No one paid heed then to those words
Those words in that old book
It's like men's minds were with the birds
Perhaps the crow or rook
Those words they might have struck a chord
If men had eyes to read
"Vengeance is mine" said the Good Lord
Unheeding, men would bleed
They bled upon the shoreline sand
The bled upon the field
Their blood seemed to enrich the land
But Pride may never yield
A scribe he copied out that text
To duplicate that book
He went out of the Abbey next
To see plants by a brook
He drew some fleabane and some sedge
To illuminate each page
Those flowers of the field and hedge
Seemed to bring on his rage
Those words seemed, Oh, so clear right now
Why was this world so mad?
But he's tied to his holy vow
The silent scribe was sad
His vow bound him to copy words
He did it all his life
And so those words stayed with the birds
The scribe wept at the strife
But words do not strike an accord
Where men have other needs
Avenging men strike as a horde
Words never did stop deeds
Some fruit we reap we have not sown
When righteousness acts wrong
No king's secure upon his throne
Old victims may grow strong
Go traumatise a child
And twenty years from now
A raging man who’s wild
May well fulfill a vow
The problem is, of course,
In twenty years more time
The deeds may well be worse
For sick minds sink in slime
A little wrong done now
May fester long within
We cannot foretell how
Each child repays a sin
Winter, spring, summer and autumn
The seasons turn about
The swinging of the pendulum
Old victories turn to rout
The Wessex children of those days
Heard tales of ogre Dane
They heard that they had wicked ways
For trauma leaves its stain
Child Aethelwulf seemed far away
He seemed to live in dreams
And though he learned a lot each day
Not all is as it seems
It was at night he was more thrilled
His dreams laid chaos bare
Verthandi [18] in the guise of Cild
Went with him everywhere
At crucial times the fates decree
Events must ebb or flow
And it was this boy's destiny
To change the way things go
But skills were needed for this act
And aptitude as well
For Norns are subtle and have tact
They're too hard to foretell
Men rage with hate they rage at fate
They curse what has been done
But some in age when it's too late
See why they lost or won
You cannot fight the Norns who dwell
Beyond the reach of all
And though some prophets may excel
There's few will hear their call
Child Aethelwulf knew none of this
His dreams were sweet to him
This Norn who carried him to bliss
Would see his end was grim
Is there a scent on the breeze?
Do I hear music afar?
Is there a place to be at ease?
Yes, it’s the place where you are
Do I smell sweetness of you?
Do I hear the truth or ruse?
Are all of these feelings quite true?
It’s up to me here to choose
I sense a future unknown
I sense what might well soon be
Though the future cannot be known
It’s real enough here for me.
Yes, there’s that scent on the breeze
Yes, there is music afar
Soon we may well both be at ease
There in the place where you are
At the beginning of the gods
The Norns were old and strange
And most the gods have been at odds
With what the Norns arrange
They once watered the tree of life
Were there to help it grow
And as they saw the birth of strife
All chaos they must know
For out of chaos they first grew
Those slender threads so green
Beside the shores of oceans blue
They made a verdant green
The past the future and this time
Are all the same to them
As beauty comes from out of grime
Their calm's within mayhem
The rise and ebb of every tide
They've seen since tides began
They've watched great oceans growing wide
They've seen the end of man
They are there at the end of time
They made time's flow begin
They watch each epoch reach its prime
They're calm within the din
Events may start with little things
A minor deed or act
That may end with the deaths of kings
Or with a peaceful pact
Where sequence of some flows are known
Then small deeds change events
And then when every bird has flown
We see the consequence
There’s a series of things,
A chain of events
That flows from cause to consequence.
These can be put straight down to chance
Or blamed upon mere happenstance
And some may say with sad laments
That Satan set the circumstance
Although we’re vexed, well, maybe
From chaos and complexity
About the way that things may go
And where they’ll lead us who can know.
As consequence becomes new cause
Events flow on without a pause
For they seem linked like endless chain
That rattles along and past again
As in a gapless seamless dance
We’re driven on by hapless chance
A whirligig of spirals flow
And where they’ll take us
Who can know?
Yes – there’s a series of things
A chain of events
That runs ‘tween cause and consequence...
The Norns are said to weave events
As spiders weave a web
But they will know each consequence
As we know tides will ebb
The Norns however don't dictate
As Fates they know us well
They understand each love and hate
They know where best to dwell
Random chance and happenstance
Or things beyond our ken
Lead us on a merry dance
That may be ended when
Through happenstance or random chance
Or from a little lie
Or may be by some circumstance
Things happen, and we die
There’s chaos and corruption
The Norns aren’t foul or sweet
We cause our own destruction
There's chaff amongst the wheat
The cosmos may have order
It's there for us to find
There should be no marauder
Within a tranquil mind
Amid the whirling chaos
The Norns can see the way
So where can be the loss
Upon the final day
The spider weaves its web for flies
And kings weave theirs for men
And why we've not learned to be wise
Is quite beyond our ken
The spider is weaving
Its gossamer twine
It glints in the rays
Of this lovely sunshine
The flies may be heaving
As they end their days
Soft hearts may be grieving
But spiders must dine
And it’s folly that pays
So everything’s fine
The thrush eats the spider
From out of its web
But there’s no decider
All’s flow and all’s ebb
As a cat kills the thrush
And the cat too will die
So who’s in a rush
To understand why
New spiders are weaving
Their gossamer twine
They glint in the rays
Of more lovely sunshine
The spiders and flies and cats must be fed
And all in the end go on to be dead
Verthandi, Norn of present time
Is with us here and now
Strange Urth is Norn of ancient time
Skuld knows the future now
Skuld shows to prophets things to come
Verthandi hides belief
While this may leave each prophet dumb
Or lead them on to grief
Verthandi is not cruel nor bad
What she is who can know?
At night she made a sweet boy glad
Prepared him for his foe
She taught him how Berserkers fight
And how they can be caught
He used his left hand not his right
In all that he was taught
This is not how the Berserks fight
Towards your right they aim
But when the shield's held to the right
They carry on the same
Child Aethelwulf used his left hand
In preference to his right
And one day he would make a stand
Within a crucial fight
The Thane had always used such men
To fight upon the flank
His son he would not send with them
It did not fit his rank
So as he trained his son for war
He had left hands for aids
Though they trained hard it was no chore
They would be used for raids
But that was in the years to come
This boy had much to know
So then before a war was done
He would have changed fate's flow
Ivy the evergreen dwells with the dead
In graveyards it covers much of the ground
Grows on old tombstones so they can’t be read
And in the dark woods it grows all around
Ivy the evergreen dwells in the shade
It chokes the young trees that seek out the light
Yet it shies away from each sunny glade
Deep in its being it carries a blight
When Balder was killed by his brother Hoth
And all the gods called out in sheer alarm
As Tyr [19] yelled so in great rage and great wrath
Mother Fri wept as she’d failed in her charm
This bad tale of Hoth then was soon full run
As Balder’s blind twin was killed by his son [20]
As pagan gods rule over men
Elite's will do the same
For those who hold the diadem
Will also play this game
Elites are there up above
The people are here down below
Few rulers will rule through love
But most can put on a show
So the people will get on with life
For there is too much to do
With leaders all hell bent on strife
Steer clear they may come for you
It was when in his eighteenth year
The Danes took Chippenham
There was a dread and awful fear
Like when dogs rend a lamb
Aethelwulf was a younger son
So could be spared for war
Now if he'd been the only one
His value could be more
Now some who go and fight and die
Against a vicious foe
Will never hear their infant cry
On some boughs fruit won't grow
There may be glee and pleasure,
Joy, lust, in equal measure
But like a stringless lute – /P>
Some boughs bears no fruit
But in the dream place where he went
At night when sound asleep
He did not know the Norn's intent
Nor hear his mother weep
One of her sons would die in war
At Chippenham [21] he'd die
Another son she'd see no more
So when might her tears dry
She'd hear this sad news safe in Lyng
Where they were free from harm
Yet Death it has a bitter sting
And life may lose all charm
The Thane would send a younger son
To help their king's retreat
Beneath the winter's bright cold sun
He would fulfil this feat
But that would be in times to come
At night this boy slept sound
There is no simple rule of thumb
By which our fates are found
When Exeter [22] fell to the Danes
They'd traveled far from Lyng
There were upon the treeless plains
Where happy skylarks sing
Before they got far on from Bath
The Danes had blocked the way
So they turned off the beaten path
And hid themselves away
They traveled North through field and wood
And then went to the West
The Thane used all the tricks he could
And saved most of the rest
White clover by the roadside
Cow parsley in the grass
The Dormouse in its hide
Asleep 'til day is past
An adder statue still
Close to the sleeping mouse
All's ready for the kill
When will the victim rouse
But in the chill of night
The reptile's forced to rest
Whilst life is full of fright
Dormouse can leave its nest
Then with return of day
Dormouse is safe again
Its dreams were full of fright
Twitching deep in its den
He used a rearguard at the Gorge
To hide and fight their foe
They paid the Smith there at his forge
Not to reveal their woe
They crossed and traveled on quite swift
Soon they were safe at Lyng
The smith respected their good gift
And so said not a thing
That father and this younger son
Became quite close that year
For this retreat had been no fun
And danger had been near
"Remember no freeman is free
Remember that they must be paid
That smith has sworn no oath with me
So I cannot demand his aid
A Thane from Bernicia like I
A refugee from pagan Dane
Am sworn to Wessex 'til I die
And their king treats me like a Thane
That smith's work is based on men's needs
He must buy food to feed his kin
We can't expect great noble deeds
In his old trade there is no sin"
Some northern Thanes had gone Southwest
To join the Wessex king
And now that Wessex was hard pressed
What would the future bring?
Their backs were now against the sea
The high road of the Norse
They did not know what was to be
The old felt some remorse
The old Thane did know when to fight
And when to turn away
He had seen much of Danish might
He knew they'd lose one day
For confidence, he told his son
Could help us with each deed
But if its cup should overrun
We may be made to bleed
This new war band led by Gudrum
Will always seek surprise
This year he did not feel so glum
The Wessex king was wise
The Berserkers are full of rage
They work themselves into this state
You do not have to be a sage
The secret answer is to wait
Ignore them when they scream and shriek
And at that time do not turn back
When rage wares off it leaves them weak
And at that time we may attack
On their way home still far from Lyng
As rapidly he rode
The poor youth did an awful thing
A girl stepped in the road
He tried to rein his fast horse in
The girl was knocked aside
He felt the clammy hand of sin
As in his arms she died
The little Girl died in his grasp
Though not a word was said
He holds her still, hears her last gasp
He held her dying on that day
Wanted to save her life
As Death will have the final say
His soul was torn by strife
For, "If only", "Oh, If only..."
Repeat around his brain
In a soul now sad and lonely
He bore a bitter stain
Oh, if only he had stopped her
Running into that road
His conscience tells him he's a cur
He had to bear that load
For on the day that She had died
His actions were too slow
Time and again he's sobbed and cried
About that fatal blow
"Watch out" he'd said – not in her tongue
She’d run out all the same
He never heard her requiem sung
And never knew her name
He’d held her on that roadside there
He did not know her folk
He has a stain that none can share
It almost makes him choke
And then at night deep in his sleep
In dreams he meets this child
And she looks sad if to weep
Her ghost’s serene and mild
Are souls of those who have died young
Like angels of the Lord
And in our dreams are we among
A sort of heavenly horde?
Are we shown glimpses of a place
Beyond the void of Hate
Where there may be a state of Grace
Beyond the grasp of Fate
The Dead who flit about our dreams
May help us in our woe
They’re not as real as waking schemes
Yet bring a gentle glow
Through sorrows we may face each blight
Protected by their charm
These dead who visit in the night
May guard the mind from harm
The Danes were close upon their heels
He laid her on the ground
This was the first of his ordeals
He made a sobbing sound
As he rode off there far away
He saw an armored Dane
Their eyes met on that tragic day
That girl caused him much pain
The Thane commanded him to horse
And forced the youth to leave
They carried on their homeward course
His boy had learned to grieve
You grieve and grieve and in your mind
You’re torn by all the strain
You weep and weep and then you find
That you must weep again
Chorus:
The patterns that are working through
The chaos of events
They’re never really quite in view
So nothing now makes sense
Violent forces may attack
When you are quite at ease
A rage may then make you strike back
But gives grief no release
Chorus
It’s not for us to understand
The way that things work out
Whether we are so full of faith
Or deeply rift with doubt
Chorus
The smiles of a grieving man
The tears of a clown
Now understand just what you can
Before your sun goes down
Chorus
Our understanding’s not complete
Despite how hard we try
Events are never really neat
So still confused we cry
Chorus
So cry and cry until your mind
Gets some release from pain
And by and by you may soon find
You’ll start to live again
The patterns that are working through
The chaos of events
Are never really clear to view
So little will make sense
While far away evading foe
Old Nan had died alone
Young Aethelwulf just took this blow
And did not even moan
The woman had been good for him
In his way he loved her
The flight they'd made was long and grim
Events just seemed a blur
In linen shroud they wrapped her up
And placed her in her grave
They drank wine from a silver cup
All this just for a slave
But not all slaves were treated bad
Some Christian Thanes were kind
For in a system that is mad
Not all have lost their mind
Alliterated verses ran
Along each line of song
Some sang of God some sang of men
With voices clear and strong
Their culture was so rich and deep
From Beowulf to this time
Some times they'd laugh, sometimes they' weep
They'd sing of good and crime
Pagans would take away all this
Oh, that must not be so
They'd rob us too of heavenly bliss
They're such a heathen foe
"Praises now we all should sing
To the kingly lord in heav'n
Creation's just a little thing
That he made in days seven
All beginnings he has made
His intentions are concealed
His miracles will never fade
And through them he's revealed
Men in Midgard [24] see the sky
He placed as roof above their place
And in faith none need question why
Guardian giver of all Grace
Ground below men's feet he made
Keeper of all Christian men
Foul pagan men he has forbade
The good must take the sword to them"
Then in the next few months of war
They harried every Dane
And soon they had killed many more
As vengeance for the slain
The fox slinks through the Polden Hills
And tracked off to the East
In hunting prey there were few thrills
He was a cunning beast
He'd stalked for most of yesterday
His cub had much to learn
And now here on this killing day
He smelled the prey return
He sniffed there at the break of day
The prey now came to him
Soon he would take its life away
And none of this felt grim
He did not slaver like mad hounds
His need to kill was keen
He would not make mad baying sounds
Death should be quick and clean
His cub would soon be tearing wide
The throats of hapless prey
As they leapt from their secret hide
Just at the dawn of day
And Aethelwulf got his first blood
That he had meant to kill
When two Danes lay there in the mud
He got no special thrill
Two dead men lay there at his feet
His conscience gripped his heart
In guarding their great kings retreat
He played this minor part
He'd jumped them fast he'd gone in quick
Their blood now soaked his arm
Then in his heart he had felt sick
And life now lost all charm
When training him to use such force
To kill's not done with ease
And first blood it is said, of course
May make a soft soul freeze
"Oh Christ Dear Lord, what have I done?
You say I must not kill
I am now but a sinful son
And me heart feels so chill"
Why was he forced to do this thing?
Why did the Danes raid here?
There's many ways that death can sting
And take away all cheer
Sing a song of discontent
His heart had learned of hate
His seething will not now relent
It is his gift from fate
It flows now through his every vein
And glistens through his skin
I don’t know how they can complain
Those who did this to him
Now tense and coiled like a spring
They have him in their place
And if they do the slightest thing
He may tear off a face
So sing a song of merriment
For those who taught him hate
Too late they cannot now repent
He is their gift from fate
And when his rage erupts in there
He may kill one or two
And some of us will stand and stare
As things turn black and blue
He then forgot the holy book
He wanted them to die
And mutely some will stand and look
And watch the blood stains dry
So sing a song of merriment
At those who taught him hate
Too late they cannot now relent
For they had earned this fate
The Norns gave victories to the Dane
They offered Wessex too
Their destiny was to be slain
And those who lived would rue
They'd rue they ever went to far
In too bold an advance
For crushing losses will all mar
What has been gained by chance
Now tyranny may be quite near
Sometimes it runs a kingly state
Or may lurk like some shady fear
On pathways near the wicker gate
Now those who must be in control
And always seek to dominate
May sap all hope from some poor soul
Or turn fear into sheer pure hate
Now thugs are the first one to cry
When victims turn and strike them back
With weepy words they wonder why
They’re hurt in a counter-attack.
Small tyrannies are ever near
Though sometimes they may run a state
More often they are lurking near
They seem to be part of our fate
Though troubled in his heart and sad
Young Aethelwulf could dream
And whilst the waking world was mad
His dream place stayed serene
Verthandi came to him as Cild
Now Urth came too as Nan
And while his soul was sad and chilled
They helped this troubled man
Now this late April greenery
Prepares the way for May
Gone's that stark winter scenery
Here on this sunny day
There's blossoms on the cherry trees
The grass is growing fast
This Springtime beauty's here to seize
Before the moment's past
The seasons twirl about through time
But Springtime keeps us young
Forgot is all the Winter grime
As blackbird's song is sung
The April woods seem born again
Buds start to open green
But there are few who feel this when
So few know how to dream
A battle hammer hit his shield
And he withstood the blow
None of them there would care to yield
Before the Berserk foe
The main wedge of the Dane attack
Was right there where he fought
The left hands there then all struck back
And did not count for nought
And while men fell their strong shield wall
Withstood the Danish rage
Though fearsome was their battle call
This wall would be their cage
Haldane the Dane led one more charge
Upon the Saxon's there
And his brute form loomed gross and large
He had the Berserk stare
His massive hammer broke the line
He'd got in past those shields
He turned and smashed a young man's spine
"Ha – this foe always yields"
He stepped upon that fallen man
He stepped upon his chest
While many do just what they can
Haldane had fought his best
But there can be over confidence
In young men as they fight
And it is no coincidence
That this may prove a blight
The man beneath his foot still had
A sword in his left hand
Though Haldane's end was cruel and bad
'Twas as the Norns had planned
With broken back it's hard to thrust
Unless pinned to the ground
But with that foot upon his chest
His blow could now be sound
Skuld had seen without that thrust
The shield wall would be broke
She saw Danes greeds could turn to dust
Just by that one swift stroke
Verthandi would prepare each lad
To do what Skuld foresaw
The Norns felt neither joy nor sad
They knew this would halt Thor
The God of thunder and wild Tyr
Both had their way of late
So now they ought be halted here
The Norns controlled their Fate
Haldane saw Aethelwulf's right hand
The felled youth was no threat
He felt alive and proud and grand
So he would fell more yet
The sword thrust up between his legs
Through manhood up to liver
He felt such pain explode his brain
All he could do was quiver
When Aethelwulf twisted his sword
Haldane cried like a child
But neither said a single word
And neither now felt wild
Haldane crashed down upon the ground
Raped by a Saxon blade
He seemed to make a simpering sound
Within he felt afraid
It could have been a close run thing
The shield wall briefly cut
The Danes were treated to death's sting
Speared in the face or gut
The shield wall moved across the field
The two were trampled on
The Wessex men were not to yield
For them bad times were gone
The dryads dance amongst the trees
The waxing moon will shine
There's that sweet scent upon the breeze
Who feels a shattered spine?
It seemed that Cild was standing there
And said, "Join me and Nan"
Now with their scent upon the air
The Norns were with this man
That night he went into
The land of all the dreaming
As the future came in view
He heard three Norns a-scheming
Their words rang through his head
He tried to shout them loud
How sad he'll soon be dead
Quite dead and in his shroud
The Fates you see are fickle
Full of their complex schemes
And Death comes with his sickle
When they’ve been in your dreams
Take care with prophesy
The Norns may keep this vow
"No matter what you see
No one may hear you now!"
The god of mischief and of change
Loki the lord of doubt
Sometimes his dreams to him were strange
Norns know what they're about
His daughter was that lady – Hel
She keeps souls of the dead
There was so much he could foretell
But Skuld filled him with dread
Though Odhinn knows he is to die
He must still go to Ragnorok [25]
Some things we do we know not why
Therein's the key that turns the lock
We must all face what is our fate
We must all bear what we must bear
We may want love but just get hate
But in this there is much to share
For fate may make us face much change
And fate may make things fade away
And all that’s known may yet turn strange
And darkness smother light of day
And though we face what seems our fate
We must all bear what we must bear
We may give love and feel no hate
Yet to all hate we may be heir
While jealousy may feed the soul
And love abandoned starve the heart
While all some have they may have stole
And dullards act as though they’re smart
Where topsy-turvy is the norm
The stable may then cause distress
Where shapelessness may have some form
And goodness only cause distress
The chaos of some long gone time
May re-appear and rise its head
Like wraiths arising out of slime
Some joy may come from out of dread
Mutations change and rearrange
And stable forms may be like jail
If you embrace all that is strange
Then all that’s free may be for sale
Now Odhinn though he knows his lot
He knows more than all gods and men
He knows too that he’ll be forgot
Doe’s he think that he’ll rise again?
Balder and his dark sibling Hoth
May be destined to rise from dead
But all the future’s empty froth
For Loki never heeds what’s said
For fate we know is fickle too
We know there’s little that we know
While much is novel nothing’s new
And where we’ve been is where we’ll go
For topsy-turvy is the norm
And blind faith leads all to distress
And shapelessness has its own form
All rigid things may sheer through stress
We may all fight what is our fate
We may not care nor wish to bear
We may want love and not want hate
In folly there is much despair
We know some hopes may end in sad despair
And doleful kin may say their sad laments
We know that life may bring us nought but care
For none may have control of all events
A child may stand beside a parent's grave
And feel that is the natural thing to do
But there's no parent who may feel that brave
To lose a child will leave all souls to rue
Why was this life so short and mine so long?
Why have we worked so hard for hopes to end?
Why does Fate often take the young and strong
And leave the old alone without a friend?
These questions seem to echo 'round the mind
But answers do not come – Life is unkind!
The stars they glimmer in the dark
A comet's shining bright
The future now has gone, is stark
Life's short – but not this night!
The fitful sleep now brings new dreams
There's so much more to know
And nothing now is, as it seems
Though time may come – to go
And Peter looked upon his soul
Then gently turned the key
This gatekeeper he needs no toll
Soon his soul would be free
Verthandi gave the youth the sight
He saw the flow of time
He saw this kingdom rise in might
Then slip back in the grime
He saw their fortunes ebb and flow
He saw them fall and rise
He saw such thing that few would know
He heard his mother's sighs
He was there as she wept such grief
He held her shaking hand
She gazed at him in disbelief
Then seemed to understand
Times spirals seemed to twirl about
He saw so much right there
His faith grew strong he lost all doubt
He said a silent prayer
Dear Christ show Grace
My fate I face
Though I must die this way
You are on high
I need to cry
Now on my final day
Grant me release
And lasting peace
To you sweet Christ I pray
His mind was feverish most that night
His heart stayed true to Church
He hoped he'd see the heavenly sight
Not be left in the lurch
Haldane Blood Hammer drew his sword
And prayed to Mother Fri
"Please let the gods speak just one word
Before I fade and die"
His groin oozed filth upon the earth
Sad Fri she wept a tear
She knew all things do have their worth
She said "My child, I'm here"
Haldane through pain sought to explain
Fri said "Peace child, I know"
There on that plain he'd not complain
Inside he felt aglow
The form and shape of things right there
Seemed to become a blur
He always knew that Fri did care
He loved and worshipped her
Another Dane lay on a track
There, only part in view
A mortal wound across his back
Said "Mother, is that you?"
His lips were parched his mouth was dry
Aethelwulf sought to pray
He heard men cry before they die
He found words hard to say
At last he mouthed his faith softly
"Dear mother of our Lord
My mother will now grieve for me
Because I chose the sword
Please let her know deep in her woes
That I cared for her much"
"But that dear child your mother knows"
He felt the Virgin's touch
"Oh, Mary, Mary say that's you
And not those phantom dreams"
"My child your heart is good and true
And all is as it seems
Lay back and rest you're with the best
For ALL men here are true
So be confessed, you will be blessed
Dear Peter waits for you"
And phantoms came to dying men
Across that battle field
For soft can be that crossing when –
Divinity's revealed
Morning is here at the dawn of the day
The sky in the east can be such a sight
The dappled green tree will feel the Sun's ray
Gentlest of glow it conceals a true might
A blackbird is singing up on the bough
The song is then carried far on the breeze
That sound is always so glorious NOW
It has with it such a feeling of ease
Hazy clouds high are adrift in our sky
While on the ground there is this sweet, soft breeze
Whole souls complete may feel no urge to sigh
Unburdened they may go and feel at ease
All things we know must flow from start to end
And back with Mother Earth we all must blend
At sunrise in the early light
Two men were near the end
Alive they saw a grisly sight
The feeding crow's no friend
Young Aethelwulf lay on the ground
At Edington that day
The crows were feeding all around
On that field where he lay
This turning point in history
Seemed dull and sad to him
As if it was a mystery
The scene around seemed dim
Aethelwulf and a sighing Dane
Lay close there in that place
Yet it seemed to his dying brain
They both were touched by Grace
Sweet sickly smelled the killing scene
Where so much rich red blood congealed
The scene seemed intimate, serene
As if some sacred scroll was sealed
Until all of their blood had chilled
He lay in shock and shook with grief
As violently as they’d been killed
This aftermath brought no relief
There was there then a strange bond sealed
Between him and that Dane
As both their blood seeped and congealed
Those two lay there in pain
Yet really he could not see why
All these men here just had to die
Then Aethelwulf laid his head back
His sight began to fade
He lay there on his broken back
He felt cold and afraid
'Twas then his life flashed passed him there
He’d been a happy boy
And childhood songs seemed everywhere
With all their tears and joy
The Dane reached out his arm at last
His sword he held up high
"Odhinn I see my life ebbs fast
And I know how to die"
The Dane then died but none there cried
Aethelwulf felt some loss
As sunrise cast a shadow wide
That sword seemed like the Cross
Then from great height he saw a light
He heard the angels’ song
And his soul soared up to this sight
For his own faith was strong
In Valhalla and Paradise
The two of them now dwell
For neither seemed that full of vice
That they be claimed by Hel
The enemies of old crouched there
Each one hugged his dead son
They now had so much more to share
That's all this war had done
Each shared a hatred for their foe
They loathed their false belief
And here now each was weeping so
Their union was in grief
Much sadness now seemed to engulf his soul
It seemed as though all life was some odd dreams
World-weary men can rarely feel quite whole
They're reconciled that nothing's as it seems
In failing and in loss is where they dwell
To them the world holds little of allure
At best life's drab at worst it is true hell
For broken men it's known there is no cure
Somnambulant they let the years go by
Initiating nothing any more
With heart that aches and eyes that seldom cry
Downtrodden men decline, that's what they're for
The subjects of an arbitrary power
Must face a life where all things may turn sour
And all about that place a stink arose
The stench of rotting flesh of butchered men
The aftermath of battles fill the nose
Soon victors and the losers both have fled
The stink that's left so few men can abide
There is no glory in what's left behind
If it's for this a victor's puffed with pride
Then mayhap this whole world has lost its mind
While carrion beasts may dine and eat their fill
The orphans and the wives may hear no word
Next day's aftermath is cool and chill
The dew upon the grass glints in the light
Survivors skulk away from all this blight
Two kings who had such enmity
Were sworn as brothers true
The souls gone to eternity
Were not to live to rue
Alfred made Gudrum his Godson
And welcomed him to church
The dead soldiers, their job now done,
Left orphans in the lurch
And widows wept and did not know
How they could feed a child
Kings dine beside the fire's glow
Life can be kind and mild
The oaths of kings are wond'rous things
Their truths are truly false
And when of them the singer sings
He's been well paid – of course!
Where harm is done not all may be put right
The overlording acts of those who rule
And seek their way by power and by might
Who will use others just like they're a tool
To use and chuck aside at whim and will
Though to control all is a craven act
The power it brings may bring a secret thrill
As secret sadness will become a fact
Why do a few seek to control the rest
Is there a need for overlords at all?
And why should some have such a feathered nest
And yet there may be joy to see them fall
To have your sway may not seem all that bad
But power may leave many hearts quite sad
The mother waited by the road
"Sir, have you seen my son?"
Now grief it is a deadly load
So no one's really won
"Not me, good woman, I have not
Though I have heard it said
That when someone is not forgot
Then they cannot be dead.
For each live in the ones they love
Their loved ones live in them
Whether on earth or up above
Love is God's diadem.
So tarry not beside this road
Attend now to each need
Not knowing is a dreadful load
I know your heart must bleed"
"In deep shade 'neath a gnarled old oak
There's nothing can grow there
Like where you hanged the last of hope
And dwelled in deep despair
And crying and lamenting were
The only thing you knew
Until you turned yourself away
And sought for something new
You wandered into sunlit glades
And thought you caught a sight
You did not then return to shades
So dwell now in a light
The light that shines without, within
A new life can create
When you have found the will to win
Your pain it will abate
The light you have is called "new hope"
The darkness was despair
It held you like old hempen ropes
That vanished in clean air
New hopes are like a springtime leaf
That unfurls on warm days
Then time abates a forlorn grief
And new hopes shine their rays"
The traveller there seemed to have gone
The mother went back home
Wars leave bereaved alone and wan
Her mind started to roam
"That Thanes son they have brought home dead
His mother has his grave
Of my son I have nought but dread
So how can I be brave?"
So lonely is the mother unconsoled
Now strangers on the road have heard her words
The child she loved she will no longer hold
While souls in grief just cannot soar like birds
And emptiness is not a thing to share
But there's mundane tasks still there to be done
While sympathy may well be everywhere
In grief there is a process to be run
Voids in the soul are opened up by grief
And whilst it's hard to ever see an end
With time and little things there is relief
Whether it is with kinfolk or a friend
While there is horror in a bloody strife
Joy will be found when getting on with life
That Thane's wife has a place to go
Where she may weep and wail
Where my son lies I do not know
This leaves me sad and frail
Their great king once had burned her bread
A useless kitchen hand
He's seen to it that crows are fed
Here in this troubled land
Her grandchild now played with his friends
Beside the reedy mere
For children playing never ends
And children bring us cheer
Her grandson skimmed a smooth flat stone
There with his friends at play
She felt less wan and less alone
This was a brand new day
The ripples on the water by the bridge
The swirling currents of the water's flow
The clouds billow above the hilltop ridge
The landscape's so serene and green below
The fishes in the stream hide in the weeds
The gale has ceased and eased down to a breeze
That storm tore down some trees but bent the reeds
Amid the loosestrife blooms are heard some bees
Those bent reeds are now upright once again
Those trees will just be so much sawn up wood
In coppice there beside the reedy mere
Some saplings start to sprout just as they should
There's constancy within all waters flow
The fish, the reeds and trees all come and go
Dainty now the signs so natural
Right here on this lovely isle
Young voices just slightly guttural
The playful young can make you smile
And here as seasons turn about
The young may grow safe and secure
So listen as they dance and shout
The young all have a strange allure
So curious are children's minds
They roam about 'most everywhere
Then they bring home their strangest finds
A childhood's best that's free from care
The rising of the sun
A brilliant orange sky
Now this long day’s begun
You tremble and you cry
The passage of the sun
From dawn through to midday
With journey that’s half done
It carries on its way
Noon sun in late July
The light and humid heat
Shimmer before the eye
When cool drinks are a treat
Noon sun in December
A bright light without heat
It’s a cooling ember
A brilliant lurid cheat
The passage of the sun
It’s run to West from east
So soon the day is done
And we’ll sit down to feast
The setting of the sun
A vivid ruddy sky
The long night has begun
But there’s no need to cry
The rising of the moon
That’s presaged by its glow
Its full disk is seen soon
What secret will it show
The passage of the moon
Her sensuous glowing face
Like a foretelling rune
There’s glory in her grace
The moon’s shrunk to a crescent
A gentle subtle glow
With honeysuckles scent
All stress may fade and go
The moon has waxed to full
A fulsomeness of grace
It has a mystic pull
Reflecting light from space
The passage of the moon
From moonrise to moonset
It’s glow may go quite soon
But there is no regret
The setting of the moon
The dying of it’s light
The depths of darkness soon
The stars a glorious sight
Depression gives to life a dream like state
Elation can make souls seem like they fly
Emotions may well lurch from love to hate
From happiness and joy to doleful sigh
An ocean roller ride 'tween heav'n and hell
Where placidness in life is quite unknown
No fixed place for the soul to rest and dwell
And any chance of calm has been long flown
And gone away. So there's no calmer way
To live now, but that is the way things are
Lurching between extremes throughout each day
All chance of hope's like wishing on a star
If life's just one long stream of such extremes
Then peace has all the substance of Moonbeams
ContentsPrayers, sonnets and verses Child's birdie song Sonnet – Climbing and running and playing and dreaming and ... Avalon Vengeance is mine There's Rosemary Hoth the blind Ebb and Flow Sonnet – Child's Play Sonnet – Child's Play The stream from the Holy Well Events are confusing The Ash tree More Trees Nan's Fairy Song Aneirin and the Bards Fri cried Jesus Wept Fri sought a pledge The light of Jesus Heart and Mind Pre-destiny and choice Spoiled children Narcissus Flowers The rich men Ivy Seeds Blackthorn Blossoms Power Ivy flowers Sonnet – The Gale Butterflies in October Go traumatise a child Verthandi – the place where you are Whirligig of change Random Chance The Norns Tangled Webs Sonnet – Ivy the evergreen Elites up above Empty glee Sleeping Dormouse Thane and freemen smith Berserker Ghost of a little Girl Grieve and grieve The small feast Parody of Ceadmon's Hymn The fox hidden awaits Aethelwulf's Prayer of remorse From Joy to Nemesis Bully boys and bully men April Greenery Skuld foretells all Prophet beware Loki's dream Sonnet – Life is unkind Aethelwulf's first prayer Sonnet Morning The scene Aethelwulf saw Sonnet – Broken Men Sonnet – Blighted Lives Sonnet – Power's Lovers New Hope Sonnet – The Mother's Grief Sonnet – After a storm Suns and Moons Sonnet – Moonbeams |
Footnotes1. See: www.isleofavalon.co.uk/AlfredandGudrum.html 2. A Saxon Burgh near to Athelney in Somerset 3. The Raven was the symbol on the banner of the Danes invading Wessex in 877 and 878 4. There is evidence that children of this time had small games cut from the bones in pigs’ feet. 5. Now called "Marbles" as it is played with glass marbles. 6. Battle of Dyrham 577 defeat of the Romano-Britons by the West Saxons 7. Balder the god of peace, joy and light killed with an arrow shot at him by his blind twin Hoth, god of darkness who was aided by Loki, the god of mischief and of change. 8. The name means "Half Dane" Know as Haldane Blood Hammer as his favoured weapon was a very heavy battle hammer. Like Aethelwulf he is not an historic character. 9. Wilfrith of Crediton in Wessex renamed Boniface 10. Disease is described in Saxon medical texts as being caused by venom of the worm. Woden is said to have given man the nine sacred herbs to counter the nine segments of the worm. See "Leaches book of Bald". 11. A small hill near to Lyng in Somerset 12. Aneirin wrote in the British language and is seen as one of the greatest Welsh bards. He was most probably a Strathclyde Briton. He is part of a long tradition of British war poetry that continues on today. 13. First Angle king of Northumbria 14. Balder god of light and joy and Blind Hoth god of darkness and despair 15. Saint Peter the gate keeper of the Christian heaven 16. The angel Gabriel 17. Some mills in Saxon times were slave powered one of these has been found near Cheddar in Somerset 18. Verthandi, one of the Norns, Norse goddesses of fate, controllers of destiny 19. Tyr: Norse god of war 20. In the myth Balder's son avenges his father's death by killing his own uncle, Hoth 21. Between Christmas day 877 and the beginning of 878 22. This was the previous year, 877. The reason for the Danes drive to that area is not recorded in Christian history nor is Gudrum's attack on Chippenham and beyond in the next year 23. Caedmon was a seventh century Saxon poet who lived at St Hilda's abbey in Whitby. Caedmon's Hymn is mentioned in Bede's work and there were translations of it in all Saxon dialects with considerable variations the meaning. The last three lines added here are not in the original. This was a small feast at a time of war with the pagans and the West Saxons seemed to be losing. 24. Saxon term meaning middle earth, between heaven and hell, their name for the world is a term copied and adapted by Tolkein 25. The death of the gods or final battle, called götterdämmerung in Germanic mythology |
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© Copyright Trevor Morgan 2005. This material may be printed out in single copies only for personal use, in a spirit of fair play.
Other forms of reproduction in print or on websites or public performance is permitted only .
First published by The Glastonbury Archive 2005