"Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it:
if a man would give all the substance of his house for love
It would utterly be contemned"
Song of Solomon Ch.8 V. 7
Written in Rock Well Green
Near the town of Wellington
In Somerset
In the Kingdom of Wessex
1 TA21 9DB
© Trevor Morgan, sunset on the Spring Equinox 2005, 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 CharactersBran – a boatman who ferries travellers across the meares on the Somerset levels Alfred – King of Wessex Gudrum – Dane King of East Anglia Cadwal – swineherd of the island West of Lyng later called Athelney Mildburg – the swineherd’s wife Bjord the Mad – Skald, or poet, to Gudrum Modron – water goddess known to some as Morgan la Fey – she sleeps beneath the river Brue Andrew – Patron Saint of the church at Aller protector of fisherman and maidens, apostle to the Christ Odhinn – God worshiped by Gudrum, Head of the gods of Asgard Thor – God of Thunder Try (or Tiw) – one-handed god of war List of SymbolsAlder – tree sacred to three goddesses, possibly the Norns List of Some Terms Used Rhine or rhyne – a drainage ditch in Somerset |
List of PlacesBrue – a river in Somerset Wedmore – town and island in the Levels Ferran Meare – brackish tidal lake covering much of the Levels, now drained and gone Lyng – borough in Somerset Polden Hills – hills in the Somerset Levels surrounded by water at spring tides Edington – village on the Polden Hills Westhay – island on the Meare covered by deep water at spring tides Burtle – island on the Meare barely above high water at spring tides Nifheim – realm of the dead Aller – island of the Alders Fosse Way – an old Roman road running from Ilchester to Lincoln Vale of White Horse – valley in England Bath – town on the Fosse way Wrangway – parish in the west of Somerset The People's Highway – ancient ridgeway along the Blackdown Hills List of EventsBattle of Edington – 878 Peace of Wedmore – 878 Death Of Mildburg – 882 Death of Gudrum – 890 Death of Alfred – 899 |
Historians list events by battles and treaties and conquests. They talk in the religion and beliefs of ruling elites. The weeping of a widow is not a great event in history. It is the biggest event in any person’s life to be bereaved. This does not count for much in the analysis of historians. In coping with loss people turn to their own beliefs. Wessex at the time of Alfred was officially Christian. Many of the people were Christian through and through. This was not the case for everyone.
The Charter that describes the boundaries of the parishes of Wellington and West Buckland shows this. One part of the boundary is described as follows: "...and so beyond the open land it tends westwards until you come to the Ashtree which the ignorant call sacred..."[1] This Charter was written about ten years after Alfred’s death. It granted lands in Somerset to Bishop Asser in exchange for his lands in Plympton, Devon. Danes never occupied Wellington and yet some of its people saw an Ash as a sacred tree. As the ash was sacred to Woden, the old Saxon pagan god and equivalent to Odhinn of the Danes it seems that the common people had differing beliefs from the churchmen who wrote the charters. In some ways these beliefs were similar to those of the invading Danes.
The idea that there are great events of equal worth to all is nonsense. Someone’s victory is someone else’s defeat. For there to be winners there must be losers. Defeated men may hang or face disgrace. The gifts of victors can be the loss of non-participants as well as the defeated.
Glory and greatness come at cost. That cost is borne by the sorrow of others.
Trevor Morgan, 2005
The shooting stars flew ‘cross the sky
There – just below the Plough
The sky is really lively now
But shooting stars soon die
To all who have been left to weep and to grieve through the folly that is war
A lonely soul screeched out aloud
Within a lonely mind
A lonely psyche wept alone
It seemed the soul was blind
An aching heart grieved in the shade
The mind became quite lost
A raging wrath had its tirade
The spirit bore the cost
Great monsters rose within the id
They loomed across all things
The haunted id it fled and hid
Yet still a faint Hope sings
That Hope there in its lonely glades
Stood up against all woes
And slowly rose up from the shades
To face the phantom foes
A timid soul ceased to decline
Within a healing mind
An injured psyche saw a sign
It was a precious find
As healing hearts no longer ache
What’s lost may yet be found
All wrath has left within its wake
A sight of firmer ground
The monsters faded from the id
And inside things were still
All terror from the spirit fled
A warmth rose mid the chill
As upward once-harmed souls may go
They rise from out the dirt
For hopes can spread their warming glow
That heals what may be hurt
Though time may pass the pain remains the same
For some bad memories linger on and on
And loss and shock may both then share a name
Yet Trauma stays when hopes are fled and gone
For Trauma stays like some unwanted guest
It visits in the night through troubled sleep
With nightmares and bad dreams night times are blest
And sometimes for no reason men may weep
And sob about what happened long ago
Or talk to ghosts of men who are long dead
Some secret fears some men may never show
But who’s to listen to what may be said
And how can all events remain well known?
Dead flesh soon rots and leaves the barest bone.
The winter night was clear and bright
Orion strode above
A beaten man rose from his plight
His soul seemed cleanse of love
At sunset neath a waxing moon
A lonesome voice had prayed
"Dear God I know you’ll show all soon
May your will be obeyed"
There’s sorrow caused in every war
There’s pain and mourning too
There’s grief that cuts right to the core
Bereaved are left to rue
Retreating from a great defeat
Our King hid in a marsh
While myths proclaim each mighty feat
The facts can be more harsh
So some have won and some have lost
Wars have their ebb and flow
To lose close kin is such a cost
The weeping and the woe
Some emptiness cannot be filled
Events cannot be sweet
Bereavement leaves a heart so chilled
In victory or defeat
To north and east the Force is there
Soon they may well descend
Disaster comes for all to share
Soon all may be at end
Retreat from Chippenham was dire
An army lay there dead
The countryside was all afire
Those who survived have fled
The valley of the Brue was wide
Seaward there was salt marsh
Yet deep inland could flow the tide
With waters cold and harsh
The raised peat bog east of Wedmore
Held large wide meares at bay
All to the west was boggy mire
Crossed by an old causeway
A few boats ventured up the Brue
They got some steady trade
And in the work those boatmen do
Their great skills are displayed
King Alfred with his bodyguard
Took boat and went to Lyng
The ground about was frozen hard
Here was the winter king
The bleakest coldest time was then
The weather and the war
A few small islands in a fen
Were seen from this north shore
The boatmen seemed to know right here
When travellers came this way
In moments they would soon appear
Throughout the night or day
They carried travellers safe each way
At any time or tide
At any time of night or day
Across the waters wide
Now Bran the boatmen knew these tides
Oh, how things come and go
He knew much lore of Moon and Sun
He knew each ebb and flow
The King and Thanes had beckoned him
When they fled pagan rage
That New Year had been cold and grim
There by the landing stage
He ferried them across the Meare
The winter’s flood was deep
Those men all seemed so full of fear
And one had seemed to weep
"The tides here can run fourteen yard [4]
As they go up and down
The people here are on their guard
It’s here that strangers drown
Full Moons may grace this mystic place
The tides they ebb and flow
Once our clear Moon shows her full face
The watery places grow
Then see the causeways all round here
Become a watery grave
As all sinks under Ferran Meare
To drown both Thane and slave
Be on your guard and hire a guide
If you must pass this way
Or go beneath the rising tide
And hence to judgement day
The tides here can run fourteen yard
As they go up and down
The people here are on their guard
It’s here that strangers drown
Be on your guard and hire a guide
If you must pass this way
Or go beneath the rising tide
And hence to judgement day"
He’d sang his song about the tide
The King then spoke to him
"In your trade you may take great pride
This craft is neat and trim
You must tell me about your lore
This land is in great need
Come sit with me beside the shore
Through you we may succeed
The Danes have harried us so long
We need to find good ground
Regroup until we can grow strong
With strategies more sound
You sang that strangers can drown here
These waters cause much harm
Is this the same throughout the year?
To me they’ve seemed so calm
I know they have an ebb and flow
Sometimes they drown this land
Is there in the lore you know
To tell when that’s at hand?"
"The tides are moved by Moonlight’s change
Soft water wears a stone
Still softer Moonlight is as strange
For long this has been known
The Moon commands the waters here
Commands each neap and spring
No ferryman’s a mystic Seer
Tides are a rhythmic thing
They’re like to women in their ways
The Moon commands their flow
All my trade knows the very days
The deep floods come and go
A woman in her flow’s not like
A woman in her heat
While tides may overflow each dyke
When gone the land’s more sweet
From certain Full Moon’s every year
This Meare will flood much land
It’s not wise then to wander here
When watery Death’s at hand"
So Alfred learned from Bran his Lore
They met six days that week
And talked beside the Meare’s green shore
The King then seemed less bleak
Now when late April greenery
Prepares the way for May
Gone’s that stark winter scenery
Here on a sunny day
There’s blossom on the apple trees
The grass is growing fast
This spring time beauty’s here to seize
Before the moment’s past
The Seasons twirl about through time
The springtime keeps us young
This greenery spreads to hide past grime
And sweet bird songs are sung
The April woods seem born again
Buds start to open green
But now too few may feel this when
So few know how to dream
To dream of things in shades so sweet
Needs minds that are not marred
But those who burn with hatred’s heat
Have souls that are too scarred
"We grow no crops here in this place
Our flour we must buy
To let things burn’s a foul disgrace
It made my Mildburg sigh
To kill her cat just for his bow
Is to be like a thief
But grieving wives don’t always show
The true depth of their grief
The men with arms then filled our farm
And we did as we’re bid
We don’t care if kings come to harm
We know we’d be well rid
Can’t he just go and fight his war
Away from our salt Meare
His staying here was such a chore
Our land’s now full of fear
The rage of Northmen is at hand
Their Ravens want our flesh
With feuding kings in any land
Poor folk are in a mesh
A mesh of intrigues of the rich
Who feud to gain their spoil
While poor men’s corpses line each ditch
And rot into the soil
Below the trees beside the wall
The lovely Celandine’s in bloom
At night near by we hear the call
Of Owl that hunts mid gloom
The mouse she ventures out at night
She needs to feed her young
So silent is the Owls flight
That no lay there is sung
Death drops from out the jet-black sky
The young wait in her hole
Within the week they all will die
To feed the hungry mole
Things turn about from toil to rout
And each may come and go
As none may know what Fate’s about
Enjoy each morning’s glow – /P>
The celandine’s in flower again
It’s early days of spring
The cycle starts again once more
Ah, hear the blackbird sing
The winding path beside the stream
White clouds sail slowly by
All’s still just like some sort of dream
And yet she had to cry
Once more life’s cycle is renewed
Once more false hope is here
Like just another calm prelude
For villainy is near
These yellow petals growing bright
The Celandine seems sweet
And whilst they’re pleasing as a sight
All love is in retreat
With lazy movements of its wings
A Raven glided past
There is no kindness that it brings
Or where its shadow’s cast
I listen to the waves that lap
Along each Wessex coast
They healed me after that mishap
That made those bullies boast
The calming breezes of the sea
So gentle on the soul
It’s here my spirit is set free
My broken heart made whole
I listen to a sea bird’s cry
Such plaintive lonesome sounds
Yet I no longer need to sigh
This hart’s escaped those hounds
Men may see what they want to see
As they do as they choose
Or put things down to "Destiny"
As they win – or they lose!
Yet free will brings most things about
Will of those wilful men
That drives them on to face a rout
Or drown in some low fen
To travel fast and travel far
Some travel at full moon
These men don’t know springtides flow fast
And so may drown quite soon
The Lion in its might
It is the fearsome cat
So awesome in a fight
Alone it will attack
The Eagle in its flight
The biggest bird of prey
Stoops down from its great height
Alone it will attack
The She Wolf stalks at night
A stealthy silent beast
With eyes so deadly bright
Alone she will attack
What mangy curs some dogs are
To kill – they need a pack!
A canny king had chose good ground
He sought both place and time
With armed men hid here all around
Young fit men in their prime
The valley of the Brue was then
Raised peat bog and salt marsh
At low tide it was kind to men
With spring tides it was harsh
And Gudrum and his force were here
Just as a flood was due
In ignorance they felt no fear
Defeat came from the Brue
The water marched upon them there
Drove them to higher ground
But shields arose from everywhere
Shields and a chanting sound
A rhythmic chant a rhythmic rage
Rang out now all around
Shield wall and water formed a cage
So resonant the sound
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
That rhythmic rage, that rhythmic chant
This was the killing ground
"To hell with Danes" they seemed to rant
"Let cry of battle sound!"
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
Repeating and repeating there
That chant raised to a din
The local folk knew this ground here
Knew now that they could win
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
SUMORSAETE EALLE
That battle chant resounded loud
It helped men face a fight
Once routed men now felt so proud
Steel glinted in the light
Those blood drained cheeks of fearful men
All blanched as battle’s due
Would soon regain their colour when
They do what warriors do
Those shields entwined prepared to take
The impact of the foe
With dread that at some time they’ll break
But who is NOW to know
Resolve is there and holds some days
Fear makes men want to live
And feel the glowing sun’s sweet rays
So shield walls must not give
Beside the marsh there mid the sedge
Danes rallied round their king
They formed into Lord Odhinn’s wedge [6]
And they too tried to sing
AH TAA TAA
AH TAA TAA
AH TAA TAA [7]
But their fierce cry was well drowned out
They could not chant their charm
Still confident they felt no doubt
They still felt free from harm
There was no breeze upon the air
The Raven flag hung down
With water rising everywhere
They had to fight or drown!
Some of their wedge sank in a rhyne [8]
Now hidden by the tide
Some Danes now saw this as a sign
But they still had their pride
Part of the wedge drove at the wall
One big man broke straight through
They saw him reach up scream then fall
Then he was lost from view
Assailants’ days are bountiful
To win may seem a right
And yet not all is wonderful
Some may fall from their height
Despair strode out across old hopes
It languished in the mire
Yet deep within, the psyche copes,
New Hopes ignite new fire
Where once things always turned so bad
Sad days one day are done
And doleful hearts could well feel glad
What’s lost may yet be won
Defendants’ days are dutiful
Though they don’t want this fight
But victory can seem beautiful
It sees an end to spite
There’s raging in the brains of dying men
They cannot move and yet do not feel dead
Their minds may rove to better old times when
Thoughts of a future had been there instead
The sky is like a great vault of despair
It arches over all this loss of hope
Before the eyes glaze to that glassy stare
The souls of some may watch all hopes elope
Accepted Death, rejected Death both come
Both fatalistic and naïve will die
There seems a dreadful horrid rule of thumb
And there’s no answer to each question "Why?"
At end of day upon a killing field
This one and true equality’s revealed
Confusion, panic, terror
The rage of their advance
Delusion caused each error
And these led to mischance
Back across the causeway to Westhay
Some fleeing men then ran
But rising waters from the bay
Could outrun any man
Its speed once flowing on its course
Was swift beyond compare
Swifter than the swiftest horse
Encroaching everywhere
The spring tide raced right up the Brue
Men threw their mail aside
Invading men were all to rue
Where water spreads so wide
In panic there’s no time to weep
Where water rushes in
So like Death’s scythe in its broad sweep
It washed away all sin
The out rush of the waters then
Took out what they had caught
So ended an invasion when
At Edington men fought
And sad laments and sorry tales
Have been told of that day
How water that is held in pales
Could sweep great men away
And many were the men who died
Men who knew not this place
And widow women now have cried
All’s lost without a trace
Now the memory lingers
It’s still with him today
Rings removed from fingers
And storing them away
Cutting through the braces
And tearing off each purse
Not looking in the faces
That way you face a curse
Weather’s fine an’ sunny
Corpses are searched through
Looking for their money
It’s bad but it’s not new
The booty from the dead
The best he had put by
What more can now be said
He’d sooner thieve than die
The rain it rains upon the just
Upon the unjust too
It rains on hopes dead in the dust
Rain fell from skies quite blue
This week had started well for Danes
The weather fine and clear
With pride they’d camped beside these plains
All’s ended now in fear
Some Danes were drowned some Danes were bound
Gudrum was at Dundon
His remnant held some higher ground
There’s alder there and linden
With vistas broad on slopes so green
He could see miles around
The grass there had a glossy sheen
But no springs could be found
The brackish water in the marsh
It was not fit for men
This misty place seemed cruel and harsh
Caught like pigs in a pen
They had no water there to drink
The rain it ceased to rain
What were good pagan men to think?
Strange gods ruled on this plain
The water spirits of this land
First drowned men in a tide
On high ground where they made a stand
Clear water seemed to hide
The sun it shines upon the just
Upon the unjust too
It bakes vain hopes into dry dust
Beneath a sky so blue
The holly flowers are here again
The tree’s not just plain green
Sweet blooms in a spiny
Each with a waxy sheen
Deep grief it is a fearsome load
Some heroes learn to cope
Life seems just like a long dull road
Stretched forth beyond lost hope
A northern thane had lost his boy
At Edington he fell
His soul turned dark devoid of joy
Like demons out of hell
He smiled at grieving friend and foe
His words seemed calm and kind
But maddened by his grief and woe
His cold rage ruled his mind
Some drown the kittens of a cat
To keep their numbers down
In dark grim rage he cursed and spat
He’d watch his prisoners drown
His son had strived to please his Dad
He’d fought there for their King
For that good boy it now seems sad
Such grief could cause this thing
A righteous rage drives men to wrong
And justify a crime
With evil will turned cold and strong
Grief drags souls through the slime
The Thane resolved to drown the Danes
That he had in his care
He sought to wash away the stains
And vengeance seemed so fair
Lives for one life seemed Just right now
Equations can be strange
For five and forty might somehow
For one be fair exchange
He knew to get to their Great Hall [9]
They must die sword in hand
His was the power to watch their fall
Their deaths would not be grand
He’d kill each rat just like a cat
He’d let them taste pure fright
They’d linger as he dined and sat
And watch tide rise that night
"Our rearguard was caught in the marsh
Was dragged from drowning there
But Judges can be hard and harsh
Kill with a casual air
Some kill for joy, some kill for fun
Some like to take their time
Some wait for rising of the sun
And then commit their crime
Some take a life with swiftest slash
Some hang men with stout ropes
Some kill for free some kill for cash
Some offer fake, false hopes
Most kill from pure self-righteousness
Convinced they do God’s will
Oblivious of all dire distress
It’s all done through free will
We captives had our hands bound tight
Were led to face cold rage
Bereaved old men may act through spite
As darkness grows with age"
"The darkest slough of all despond
Seemed paradise right here
And now there seemed no magic wand
Could ever bring good cheer"
"We were held in a hall long hours
And fed a meagre fare
Outside we heard the late spring showers
With dampness everywhere
The ground was damp the air was damp
The rain might rain a week
And here within this watery camp
We knew our fate was bleak
We were then bound like slaves are bound
When captured in a raid
Our captors never made a sound
Were we now goods to trade?
‘From water we have rescued you
Back to that place you’ll go
Your gods may turn tides in our view
Or you’ll drown in their flow
What we have taken from the tide
We must give back again
It flows around us deep and wide
And could cause you much pain
It could be that we’ve been a thief
To take you from its grasp
But you can save us from its grief
With your last choking gasp"
"We paddled on, led through this marsh
Dread’s kiss blanched each chill cheek
These captors all seemed hard and harsh
And so our knees went weak
The gods of this place seemed aloof
The wind, the wave, the tide
And rising waters were the proof
These gods weren’t on our side
We’d always fought we’d always won
Until we came to here
But now it seemed all was undone
All terrors dwelled quite near
The late day’s mist rose round us all
It swirled about that place
Far off we heard the raven’s call
Right here we knew disgrace
And will'o'wisps all faint and blue
Were all about the land
They seemed to dance as though on cue
Here our fate was at hand
Their little blue lights mid the sedge
And small glows by each meare
With will o wisps by waters edge
Strange spirits closed in here
To fight for Thor and Tyr as well
Takes courage of a kind
But this place where such spirits dwell
Can drive men out of mind
The water and the land seemed one
Not much here seemed that firm
With mists that right there hid the sun
We could soon feed the worm
Our minds as captives spun with shame
The horror of the place
While some would whisper Odhinn’s name
Most dwelled on our disgrace
With sword in hand we wished to die
This was not now to be
The fatalistic did not sigh
Our souls would not be free
When killed now we would dwell with Hel
In cold realms of the lost
How could men who had fought so well
Be made to bear this cost
We’d fought to save our king in flight
Prepared to fight and die
Our faith taught that our cause was right
Yet captive men must sigh"
"Each childhood may have led to nought
A corpse beside a marsh
Despite all that was learned and taught
It’s Fate that can be harsh"
"Each knew he was now doomed to die
The tide had took them down
Odhinn had not heard each man cry
Nor this foe let us drown
We’d been pulled out from out the flood
That caught us on that plain
We’d been dragged out onto some mud
That shame now left a stain
That causeway seemed to fade away
As we made our retreat
Great hopes we had felt yesterday
And now we were well beat
We could beat men but not the tide
That place seemed vast and bleak
The waters spread so far and wide
Cold waters turned us weak [10]
We thought we’d face the skinners knife
And face a fateful death
Gudrum had fled to save his life
Our men had saved his breath
Each knew that now we’d breath our last
Our flayed forms raw and red
All chance of Asgard now was past
Each would be shamed when dead
The Valkyries would pass us by
Our souls would now go forth
Sad hopeless wraiths that drift and sigh
To Hel’s realm in the North
We’d go across the fields of snow
To Nifheim, realm of dead
And we would rest there deep below
Or so it has been said
Our captors took each man aside
They pinned us to the ground
Each now knew of this local tide
Our captors stood around
So wicker was placed on each Dane
And turfs stacked up on each
It caused torments to feel such pain
With swords placed out of reach
Some binding ropes were added too
To keep each foe in place
Such swine should all be made to rue
And face a foul disgrace
The moon brought feint light to the east
Its light a silver white
The ebbing tide at twilight ceased
It would flow in all night
For many, many, many hour
We all lay pinned down there
Each pinned down man knew nature’s power
The dank death we would share
We waited for the waters flow
We waited for its chill
Our captors seemed to be aglow
The calm clear air was still
The stars shone in the sky on high
They glistened in the dark
Some waiting men were heard to sigh
For this all seemed so stark
The bats there flitted overhead
They fluttered to and fro
When men are waiting to be dead
The flow of time seems slow
A shooting star then crossed the sky
It left a glowing trail
We heard a distant heron cry
As water reached the trail
It lapped now by the causeway there
It seemed to rise and rise
Some sensed a salt scent on the air
Beneath those wondrous skies
A watery death is cold and slow
We struggled with our bonds
Our captors watched to see us go
Besides the spreading ponds
‘Call on your gods to save you now
You say they rule the tide
We’ve heard you brag we’ve heard you vow
We’ve seen you strut with pride’
The waters reached us laying there
Pinned firmly to the ground
Most of us just gazed in the air
And none now made a sound
A calmness seemed to fill this place
Each seemed to be quite still
And resolute and filled with grace
The rising tide was chill
A loud voice shouted ‘What goes here?
Dear God now let this stop’
The tide then ceased to rise right there
We heard some blades go chop
Our binding ropes were cut right through
By some lord and his aid
He shouted some would ‘live to rue’
And none here ‘would be paid’
An old Thane stood in doleful rage
"Sir, give my son his life
Danes killed him at too young an age
It’s they who brought all strife"
But this would not be Alfred’s gift
For Alfred knew this foe
He treated his thane to short shrift
Men are made fools through woe
So can you educate pure hate
From out the hearts of folk?
If you dream of a peaceful state
Are dreams a doleful joke?
When fixed upon a single thought
Pure hate will have its sting
For nothing new may then be taught
And that’s the saddest thing
"You are all free to go this day
I give your lives to you’
It seemed the tide there ebbed away
The moon seemed faint and blue
We left and went towards north east
For we were now free men
But since that day none of us ceased
To talk of that night when
A Saxon king had turned the tide
By one strong loud command
There in the Levels flat and wide
Deep in a mystic land"
Defeat may lead to total shock
Where men are used to win
It seems as though the gods all mock
Could pride have been their sin?
When as a boy in Dublin town
Bjorn learned the way of verse
He’d never gained much great renown
Nor ever filled his purse
This skald hid in the sedge and reeds
He’d hid himself away
He stood in awe of Alfred’s deeds
And so was moved to pray
He slipped away from that strange place
Went inland up the Brue
So filled with awe with ashen face
He pondered what to do
The water Goddess Modron [11] sleeps
Beneath the River Brue
And in her dreams she softly weeps
At crimes that great men do
Some water flowed down one small leaf
Some flowed in with the tide
Their merging was so sweet but brief
That dewdrop felt such pride
"I am the pool from here on high
You are the pool below
And myriads like me bye and bye
Make all the rivers flow
We glint here as the morning dew
We fill the oceans wide
As I join with You, River Brue
I swell the deep spring tide"
But Modron, Morgan of the Fey
Was happy when at rest
She sleeps on nearly every day
Through her our land is blest
When Modron’s hazel eyes are closed
Her waters gently flow
Awoken, then men are exposed
As furious torrents flow
While sleeping waters are the best
Awakened waters wrath
So Danes disturbing Modron’s rest
Had drowned ‘neath foam and froth
"Odhinn, Odhinn, I call your name
How can we fight their King?
I’m racked now by such total shame
Bring me new words to sing"
The gods of water and of air
Are never reconciled
They feud about us everywhere
Their raging feuds are wild
The waters seemed to boil right there
A sword rose from the pool
Then Modron with her raven hair
Gazed at him cold and cruel
"Who calls upon foul Odhinn here?
This is where I hold sway
The waters of this reedy Meare
Will always block his way
That skald had never seen such things
No god, nor elf, nor sprite
His trade was just to sing to kings
He sagged there weak with fright
"You man of words, you say no words
So have some words from me
Hark; hear afar, the song of birds
Birds unlike you are free
Once you were brave, now you’re my slave
Do as I say or die!
You’ll drown here in a watery grave..."
That skald began to cry.
"Oh, water god tell me your name
I do not know this land
Tell me so I may sing your fame
That all may understand"
Still Modron held that sword up high
Her eyes burned through his soul
He did not care that he might die
His faith made him seem whole
She entered deep within his brain
His body seemed so cold
Resisting her would be in vain
She made him fit her mould
He saw the ways these waters flow
Each eddy and each wave
She showed him things few Danes would know
On this side of the grave
He saw the water fairies there
He knew of their great rage
They liked to live without a care
In this and every age
But Gudrum had disturbed their ease
He brought war to their Meare
‘Twas they who took away the breeze
Odhinn cannot win here
Of seven mortal sons of Fri [12]
Six bloodlines are now dead
The last is here and shall not die
Hark to what Fri has said
Odhinn’s war bands must face defeat
Though Odhinn led them here
All powers greater powers meet
Soft water rusts the spear
My waters trickle from the hills
Fed by the gentle rain
The softest trickling little rills
Men think of as mundane
My waters wear away high slopes
My softness just needs time
They’ve halted Gudrum’s foolish hopes
False vengeance is a crime
This place endures best left alone
Leave this sweet land to sleep
Bring rage here and you lose your throne
And watery tears you’ll weep
You’re not a part of this land here
It’s not a part of you
Begone or face eternal fear
Heed warnings that are true"
The skald then went into a trance
Modron led him by hand
The Danes then faced such sad mischance
For all went as she planned
She took the skald to Gudrum’s camp
She left him in a daze
Upon that marshland cold and damp
He lay there for two days
Men tried to rouse him from that trance
His staring eyes looked dead
They hid and feared their foe’s advance
Trapped here where none were fed
"The spirits of this place have spoke
Odhinn won’t have his way
The water gods and fairy folk
Say that we must not stay
These Saxons will not flay us here
They’ll grant to each his life
And we may have no need to fear
Once there’s an end to strife
Some sacrifices must be made
Our cause must bear a loss
These Saxons here must now be paid
Some must go to the cross"
Modron gave him the words to say
Words that would give her rest
She wanted wars to go away
Those pagans were impressed
For water had caused their defeat
Where water gods have rule
And wise men know when they are beat
And none here was a fool
The vapours rise up from the sea
& Yet the sea is not dried up
The rains fall down upon the ground
& Yet the ground is not all drowned
The rivers flow into the sea
& Yet the sea it is not full
The fluids and the vapours change
So why should all of this seem strange
The oceans waves lap on the shore
Great clouds float by up in the sky
All cycles turn about once more
All’s back to what it was before
And Modron, Morgan of the Fey
Could now return to rest
She sleeps on to this very day
Through her this land is blest
Now Modron’s hazel eyes are closed
She’s dreaming as she sleep’s
Her resting place is undisclosed
Her river slowly creeps
Now sleeping waters are the best
Awakened waters rage
The Danes left Modron at her rest
She slept throughout their age [13]
You’ll rise and rise and rise until you fall
The higher that you’ve rose, the greater drop
You’ll soar up to the skies and then you’ll stall
Then you will mope and moan then get the chop
You’ll stretch out to get what is out of reach
Or go beyond where it is safe to be
Like floundered whales that gasp upon a beach
You’ll lose the freedom to rove far at sea
Ambitions may well get quite out of hand
And self-belief may be a fatal flaw
Where self-belief is too bold or too grand
Defeat then follows like some natural law
For none may rise too long beyond the sky
Before returning to the ground – to die
He sang of sorrows of defeat
He sang of Gudrum’s death
He lived through years of long retreat
Until his final breath
He told of powers waters had
How tides turned for some kings
Though some men said he’d gone quite mad
They listened when he sings
He’d seen a god he’d seen her sword
He’d seen a great king fail
He told how Loki was abroad
His songs could turn men pale
But gentle fright can bring delight
Like tales of how kings fall
All eerie in the firelight
At night within the hall
One night he dreamed Modron was there
Her sword was smeared all red
She took away all worldly care
He died asleep in bed
Now fright, it is a fearsome thing
Through madness, some men cope
For lesser souls will feel the sting
Where life has lost all hope
"Who is the green-eyed child
Who enters in my dreams?
So sweet and seeming mild
And makes me write these reams
She speaks in her soft speech
And yet her words are bold
It seems that she may teach
What do her words all mean?
Why does she come to me?
In nearly every dream
Or waking reverie
I seek the green-eyed child
I seek her when awake
Her absence leaves me wild
So I write for her sake
A child may teach a man
To help old minds enquire
The old do what they can
Before they face the pyre"
Deep shame it is a fearsome load
Not all men learn to cope
Life’s turned into a long dull road
On from the death of hope
Dismal is the day
Doubtful are the fears
Can’t life end today?
And take with it the tears
"Odhinn great waters rushed upon us
There upon that wretched spot
Clean water’s now withheld from us
Are we to be so misbegot?
Odhinn pray aid us in this place
For thirst besets us in our woe
Save us from a foul disgrace
Surrounded by this loathsome foe"
Aloft in Asgard Odhinn slept
Loki arose from his deep sleep
Avenging promises are kept
For after joy comes time to weep
The Vanir Njord rules much water
He still had favours owed to him
Hostage Freyja was his daughter
Now his resolve was sure and grim
As Odhinn slept Njord did nought
He could awaken Asgard’s lord
But old blood debt’s redeemed are bought
And let loose on the Danish horde
Gudrum prayed long but got no sign
All now was bleak and harsh
Beneath the sweet sky clear and fine
Entrapped within a marsh
For fourteen days they lingered there
All help now out of reach
Disgrace was his he would not share
He would not whine nor preach
He’d brought his army to this end
His was the right to rule
He would not blame a foe nor friend
It’s he who was the fool
Fooled by a knave who feigned defeat
Fooled by the treacherous tide
Deceived by Alfred’s long retreat
Deceived by foolish pride
A bloater corpse upon the shore
Was covered now in flies
With sweet hopes dashed forevermore
Far off a loved one sighs
With rustling sounds those alders made
It seemed life debts must here be paid
Defeat becomes disgrace
Odhinn absolved oaths to false creeds
Here Odhinn held no sway
For all about were alder seeds
Where Norns will have their way
The Norns said Odhinn was to die
This world would be replaced
Before a Norn no man may lie
Here Gudrum was disgraced
Now Andrew [14] was the patron here
A symbol for each maid
And fishing nets were hanging near
Gudrum was deep dismayed
Where sedges grew – no victory
Ah, just a bloody rout
And now it seems a certainty
That faith will turn to doubt
How could this foe that he had beat
This foe he’d hounded down
Have harried him through long retreat
Then fought with such renown
First locked into his treachery
His oath would be untrue
Determined on more butchery
Things happened that he’d rue
He’d sworn false oaths so oft before
But tides had beat him here
‘Til now he’d not felt insecure
Nor knew not much of fear
His Skald had told him of Modron
That goddess raged at him
Those captive Danes forlorn and wan
Told tales too, oh, so grim
They told him Alfred turned the tide
When thanes would have them die
That tale had sapped his army’s pride
Great men had ceased to try
Yes, Alfred knew this enemy
He knew his each belief
Expecting yet more villainy
He knew the ways to grief
Surrounded by these sacred trees
This place would hold true dread
Surrounded by the likes of these
Their deep fears would be fed
Where alder grows uncertainty
And change are all about [15]
Through change comes creativity
And fading of that doubt
The alders have a sap blood red
The moon’s blood of a maid [16]
Three goddesses it has been said
Dwell in the alder’s shade
Verthandi, Skuld and ancient Urth
Controllers of all fate
In Asgard as in Middle Earth [17]
Their Will may not abate
Surrounded by this fearsome three
He had to make a vow
First turned on by the tide and sea
He faced the Norns right now
The full moon cast a shadow there
The shadow of a cross
Across the pool of his despair
All now was total loss
Verthandi [18] stood amongst them there.
There was that faintest scent
Gudrum and Alfred sniffed the air
None knew the Norns intent
The Norns controlled Odhinn and men
This cross might be her spell
Norns willed him to turn Christian then?
What else would they foretell?
Yes, Alfred knew this pagan Dane
He knew his pagan way
He knew those Norns would be his bane
He watched the alders sway
For Alfred had learned pagan lore
It pays to know your foe
He yearned one day to feel secure
But that he’d never know
The wicked have their victory
When all good men do nought
Though he would start a dynasty
Their end was sad and fraught
How Gudrum swayed and then delayed
He crumpled there and wept
The oath he gave was not betrayed
His holy oath he kept
They crossed the wetland to the hill
Beneath an ash [19] he stood
The oath he made had left a chill
And yet he felt quite good
He’d hacked his way through years of war
His life a constant fight
This treaty left him more secure
Things may have turned out right
Deep shame it is a fearsome load
Some heroes learn to cope
Though life ahead’s an unknown road
Perhaps he’ll find new hope
When baptism and treaty were all done
And all agreed and made their sacred pledge
Great gifts were given by the king who won
Gudrum went east away from moors and sedge
Escorted thence along the long Fosse Way
East Anglia was his and he was king
He’d be secure until his dying day
Secure to listen to his mad Skald sing
Secure but now his Danes had lost all chance
Of conquest in the south west of this land
Secure against all hopes of an advance
Secure to live a risk free life so bland
Defeated men seek solace where they can
Gudrum lived on but seemed a wistful man
He journeyed home across a summer isle
The skylarks sang above him on the way
By alder trees he always lost his smile
Odhinn he knew would have to make him pay
But alders could protect him from the rage
Of gods who’d urged him in the ways of war
Inside he was resolved to leave that stage
But all ahead seemed bleak and insecure
Some Danes he knew would not accept this peace
But none of them had had to fight the tide
In lands where strange things seemed would never cease
Obscure at home he’d find some way to hide
The Norns he knew could never be defied
When in the White Horse Vale, he stopped and cried
Great wars have raged in torrents, as has change
Yet mid all this some things remain the same
To some this may appear to be so strange
Not all is done by those who seek great fame
Three thousand years and more a graceful horse
Has been maintained with chalk upon this hill
This has been done by local folk – not force!
So strangers passing by may feel a thrill
If chalk is not put down near every year
The horse would be lost from that verdant slope
Its gracious form would fade and disappear
Without it how would folk about then cope
There’s continuity of care in this dear place
The lines of this old feature show true Grace
Freyr the Vanir’s [21] horse so white
Seemed present in this place
That slope rose gently to a height
Gudrum camped at its base
With three men he walked up that slope
All four in deepest awe
There kindled in each some strange hope
At this great sight they saw
"Is this the home of Vanirs here?
Does Freyr own this land?
It seems these Christians also fear
That great old god’s strong hand
Things are confusing through and through
This just does not make sense
The Christians say our gods aren’t true
Yet go to this expense
It must take care and love and toil
To have this image here
They love Vanirs who guard the soil
Perhaps these gods are near
Freyr would side with Odhinn and
At Ragnorok he’d die"
This tale all Danes here understand
The White Horse made them cry
"This Christian realm seems pagan now
Their symbols seem like ours
It seems we’ve made a sacred vow
To our old sacred powers"
The four men walked back down again
Next day they travelled east
One would come back to this place when
He hunted down a priest
East Anglia stayed Gudrum’s now
A kingdom he could own
Granted to him by Christian vow
Secure he held the throne
He held the throne but at a cost
The cost had been Danes lives
At Edington much life was lost
Their leader there survives
Survives to live on without gods
Survives, exists that’s all
He never really beat the odds
Nor got to Asgard’s Hall [22]
The stillness and commotion
All of the joy and pain
With maelstroms of emotion
That come and go again
A moonbeam once it had a dream
Some wispish passing thing
The gist of this so it may seem
This dream had been a king
The moonbeam entered in and shone
Soft light into a Hall
That tender light it glistened on
Old weapons on the wall
There were no charms that called to arms
The man who had worn them
Nor call out any new alarms
Nor wear his diadem
His ashes lay beneath a stone
Upon a nearby shore
His bloodline have long lost the throne
They too now are no more
Men seem but dreams of faint moonbeams
They pass on and are gone
For nothing’s ever as it seems
Once faint moonbeams have shone
Men are as shadows cast by faint moonbeams
A hint of some existence that’s soon gone
All seems illusion like some waking dreams
Then shades return to where the moonbeams shone
Like faint discerned reflections in the night
They seem as if alive as moments fly
Yet soon they die and are quite gone from sight
Existing only in the tears some cry
The weepers in a trice themselves soon go
Faint moonlight passes on and is beyond
The reach of what men seek or ever know
Illusion and delusion cause despond
Faint glimmerings in a place where moonbeams shine
Cause egos to scream out "...all this is MINE..."
Some Ash keys [23] flew upon the breeze
They settled by the stream
They grew into some mighty trees
And neath their shade some scream
For from the boughs there hanged some Danes [24]
They danced upon the air
The wind rose up across the plains
But those Danes did not care
In agony each writhed about
The fatter died the first
That rope it was so strong and stout
Their captors spat and cursed
Some were took down alive right there
Allowed to breath awhile
Then hoisted back up in the air
Death can be slow and vile
More Ash tree keys flew on a breeze
They settled far away
They grew into more mighty trees
Where men will hang some day...
So joyous was the heart sometime
May be it was quite mad
Where life immerses all in slime
The happy will turn sad
And hearts at ease become all tense
And all things seem inane
So take care with things that make sense
They could prove you’re insane
And through all this strange delusion
Glints from deceitful dreams
Nothing may come to conclusion
Nothing is as it seems
The senses never do tell true
Lies are fed to the brain
Then hear the call of that cuckoo
In winter on the plain
So sad now is the heart all day
So happy are the mad
For Death it has a shining ray
And corpses can’t be sad
Rotting carcass not yet dead
Shadow of a former thing
Let foul lies not go unsaid
Hateful life – this is your sting
Dwindling to demented old age
Rage all spent upon self-hate
Each old fool was once a sage
Death like old time's running late
Hanging on to some cheap life
Clinging to the sin of Hope
Aching from the wounds of strife
There's no point now when you cope
Ranting at an empty space
Wrath against imagined wrong
Life deprives the soul of Grace
Let's all join a sing-a-long
Behind the eyes each monster lie
Deep in there, is there much hid?
Hark the howling creatures cry
It's the monster of the Id
Here and there and round about
Through the spirals of the brain
Dwells a constancy called "Doubt"
Everywhere it leaves a stain
Judgements are so easy done
Those adjudged then cast aside
Who has lost and who has won?
Victory goes to idle pride!
Into the mire some are tossed
Just because of who they are
And mayhap they are now lost
Lest they have a lucky star
Shadows passed along the wall
Wraiths that once were living too
Souls of those been made to fall
In great wrongs there's nothing new
There and here about around
Through the torments of the stained
Muted they now make no sound
Drift the souls of those so pained
In recesses of the mind
In the deep sleep of the night
Dreams may come that are unkind
Give the soul a dreadful fright
Visions of a long gone wrong
Phantoms of those gone and dead
Then the soul is borne along
Dreadful things in dreams are said
Those who died that you could live
Speak all kindly now to thee
Who can cope when they forgive
Forgiveness never leaves you free
There's a debt can't be repaid
Where the creditor is dead
When the final act is played
Your soul is safe – for it has fled
In recesses of the soul
In that sleep that's known as death
Then perhaps things may be whole
There beyond the final breath
The swineherd had to move along
Kings can leave men in the lurch
His home now echoes to hymn song
It has gone to Mother Church
Seeking out some joy and grace
From lands that were so forlorn
They’d stumbled on this lonesome place
It seemed that they were reborn
The waters here they rise and fall
In turns throughout the year
But then we heard the Raven’s call
And learned again to fear
For overlording lords it seems
Must rampage out of hand
Like monsters out of garish dreams
They came across our land
One fallen Lord got bread and board
We fed him in his plight
And then there came the raging horde
Then came that deadly fight
Our quiet place became a fort
A place for waging war
There gathered there that wild cohort
Along each watery shore
Sad now there’s dead ghosts all about
Where calm was here before
This island’s now a wraiths redoubt
With phantoms on its shore
Ghosts of dead men confused and lost
Flit through the autumn haze
They are the ones who bore the cost
They fade on sunny days
But when mists roll in from the sea
And waters ebb away
Across the mud flats they flit free
Before the break of day
These ranks of wraiths had served dead kings
They fought and they had died
At dawn the merry skylark sings
Far off a Raven cried
With loaded cart and heavy heart
The weak get moved along
But all of this is just a part
Of misdeeds of the strong
Yet grief it is the saddest thing
Where some souls do not cope
They soon succumb to Death’s dark sting
When they see hopes elope
In dripping rain she feels the strain
That’s caused by total loss
Her son she will not see again
She prayed before the cross
"My son I fed here at my breast
Is gone I know not where
Mother of God is this a test
To see how much I care?"
She talked before the cross an hour
But answers never came
She did not feel God and his power
It all seemed such a shame
The rain soon forms in little pools
Upon each muddy track
The summer’s day so swiftly cools
The dry brown earth turns black
The trees drip wet and all is dank
Gone is that warmer glow
The woman’s hair hangs down all lank
It suits her in her woe
At home she’d raged against the king
Who first had killed her cat
For such as him will only bring
Joy to the rich and fat
She’d sheltered him when on the run
Yet he let burn her bread
And now this greatest sin of all
Her only son was dead
The sap is now rising
In each tree and weed
Sure as they’re arising
So they will set seed
Now first comes the Summer’s
Sunshine and showers
And these produce
Their very own flowers
Then there’s nuts and there’s grain
There’s fruit with their seed
And each is again
Fulfilling a need
As the new seed’s then set
It’s spreading about
All seek to beget
Of this there’s no doubt
"Our bloodline came from Crediton
They’d fled from fire and zeal
‘Round our small isle we’ve dwelt for long
Contentment here was real
Our peace would end our joy would cease
Just in the shortest space
A gross of years we’d dwelled in peace
Within this lovely place
A king then came and ended that
A callous thoughtless man
He made a bow string from me cat
Him and his ‘Battle plan’
In groups his thanes and him would sit
They’d plan and scheme nights through
The thoughts of him now make me spit
Kings know not ALL they do
His spies at night would come and go
His scribes would write a lot
In serving him I came to know
His every scheme and plot
He offered glory for my son
He gave him sword and shield
Most of the things that king had done
He liked to keep concealed
My son my only one sweet boy
Had thought he’d help us all
But kingly words they bring no joy
In battles good men fall
Now at each dawn with wakefulness
It’s time to leave the dreams
And face a day’s more hatefulness
Where all’s worse than it seems
The smiling face that hides its hate
The charming so soft voice
The mind that’s in a trem’lous state
The life deprived of joys
All’s terror in a moist green land
All’s hiding fearful things
All’s beckoning sad fate at hand
All’s poison and all stings
A state of Grace is for the dead
As peacefully they rest
They’ve no dark horrors, no, nor dread
The long gone do not weep
The fear that spins about the mind
The dread that chills the soul
A quick swift end that is too kind
For Death can make you whole
There’s tedium in petty spite
There’s drabness in all that
Yet why should life be one long fight
Hope’s mountain’s worn quite flat
At least at night in deepest sleep
The dreams may bring relief
Those phantoms of the night time keep
At bay a long old grief
Though grief at end is bound to win
There’s respite in sweet dreams
All virtue is at end true sin
Where nought is as it seems
Who can crawl from the depths of pain?
Who can seek hope in death?
Who can wash off the mark of Cain?
Before their final breath
Some souls get marred where souls are stained
From deeds they did in haste
At end such lives see nothing gained
All’s desolate – All’s waste
Then at the night with sleepfulness
Life comes alive in dreams
In long dreams with no hatefulness
There all is as it seems
The darkest slough of all despond
Seemed paradise right here
For now there seemed no magic wand
Could ever bring good cheer
She walked up to a sacred spot
She faced in to the West
She felt all kings were misbegot
And all of life a test
Mid winter with the setting sun
Three times her curse was said
For three mid winters it was done
Content she soon was dead
"A hundred years of joy to you
A hundred years or more
Then let you kinfolk live to rue
As my folk did before
Let strangers come and cause them woe
Let them commit foul crime
Let all their foemen’s ebb then flow
And drag them all through slime
Let fratricide kill your good man
Let oafs fall through misrule
Let Northmen strike down your whole clan
May they rise high at Yule." [25]
She’d walked to Edington to cry
To weep for her lost boy
Then chest pains told her she would die
Twas then she felt such joy
For in the mists down by the Meare
All sadness seemed to go
She knew her only boy died here
She felt an inner glow
The vanity of all right then
Strife of each pointless thing
Evaporated by that fen
Death did not have a sting
It seemed as though she seemed to float
And drift above the ground
She passed above a fowler’s boat
And heard a wond’rous sound
The world then seemed all lost in cloud
She felt a glowing light
Her son was here she felt so proud
This was a lovely sight
That fowler saw her drop down dead
A smile upon her face
Her nostrils showed some flecks of red
He felt the touch of Grace
Long years ago here in this land
Dead Britons lost their fight
Few of their ruins still now stand
Decay’s a doleful sight
The butterflies abounded there
They fluttered all around
They seemed to fill the hazy air
And covered half the ground
Their colours glistened in the haze
Each fitful flight was brief
They stayed there through long sunny days
To flit ‘tween bloom and leaf
Between the mighty fallen stones
Sweet shrubs had sprouted up
Each bloom seemed like to regal thrones
Where mead filled every cup
The butterflies each drank their fill
Cold winds came and they died
They are not creatures of the chill
So Fate is not denied
Then old leaves glistened with the dew
At Dawn each autumn day
Though skies are still a pastel blue
The Sun’s heat ebbs away
The ruined font contains a pool
Of water clean and clear
But as the weather turns more cool
Dead leaves decay in here
The water loses its green glint
Old things rot all around
Gone is each bloom and floral tint
Still – ivy’s all around
It covers what’s left of each wall
Still green not touched by Death
Close by is heard a pipit’s call
The fox has misty breath
Beneath the ruin in a den
His young had all been raised
They’ve gone beyond the reedy fen
Where all the geese had grazed
The snow and cold embraced the place
Cold stones were powdered white
The hedgehog did not show her face
But slept both day and night
The solstice came the solstice went
The seasons ebb then flow
As Mother Earth’s sweet sleep was spent
Beneath a down of snow
Dry icy mornings then turned wet
Green shoots grew mid the waste
Each day grew longer here and yet
Spring days do not make haste
The slow awakening of a land
Unfolds in weeks not days
Whilst warmer times may be at hand
There’s still no balmy haze
The sunrise in the early spring
Is bright but lacks true heat
Each new shoot is a verdant thing
So winter’s in retreat
The shrubs within the ruin there
Are last to come in leaf
They wait beyond each Easter Fair
Their reign is sweet but brief
The days grow warm the days grow long
Flower buds they seem to swell
There’s new growth that’s more green than strong
That’s where the greenfly dwell
The buds then burst into full bloom
Their scent’s upon the breeze
Forgotten’s all of Winter’s gloom
The land now seems at ease
The butterflies abounded there
They fluttered all around
The seemed to fill the hazy air
And covered half the ground [26]
Why do some feel so insecure
Why do some feel so frail?
Worried they’ll lose a sinecure?
Scared that they might fail?
All walks of life may be the same
Best don’t rise to the top
Where mediocre gets the fame
The able they must stop
With sound procedures well set up
An institution’s made
And in good time there’s no let up
Until it is obeyed
All newness then will be locked out
And good work chucked aside
No matter what is wrote about
No new things get inside
Inertia of the intellect
Can be seen all the time
It is the only prime suspect
Its dead hand is the crime
The ivy covers all the ground
Deep in the leafy wood
The distant church bell echo round
Those far off sounds are good
In peaceful green woods souls are still
And much is touched by grace
The troubled heart need feel no chill
In such a sacred place
Though grief it is a harmful thing
True heroes learn to cope
When in great age they laugh and sing
They show they lived in hope
Amid rejoicing and great joy
Once victory had been won
Cadwal heard nothing of his boy
Dark clouds had crossed the sun
For Cadwal’s only son lay dead
He died near to Westhay
His poor wife seemed to lose her head
Then seemed to fade away
She sought new hopes she really tried
Her grandson she adored
But after three years she had died
And then went to the Lord
"We grew no crops there in that place
Where Mildburg lived and died
To let bread burn’s a foul disgrace
It made my Mildburg sigh
She loved our one poor dear dead son
I care now for his lad
Now all is over all is done
Things seem to have gone bad."
"The vagaries of time and place
The randomness of chance
The memories I can’t erase
You brought back with a glance
The thoughts I think and do not feel
The feelings without thought
That make the mind revolve and reel
You caused by doing nought"
"The island where I raised the swine
Both for the Church and Hall
I now no longer have as mine
Since Asser came to call
Bishop Asser gained some land
There, further to the west
Where many great new farms were planned
At last our lives were blessed
We moved to Wrangway by a wood
Below a big high hill
The Welshman [27] helped us all he could
We long for Mildburg still
I told the Bishop of her bread
How Alfred let it burn
He wrote down all the words I said
His face was kind not stern
We talk sometimes just now and then
It’s strange he seeks me out
He comes here with some well-armed men
Who seem to fuss about
They tell me he’s a favoured priest
Respected now by all
Though war and troubles may have ceased
There’s sad time I recall
My grandson will soon be a man
My wife and son are gone
It seems I’ll live to my full span
A long life now quite wan
With Mildburg I seemed more alive
All men, oh, they should wed
Without a woman who can thrive
She’s gone so I’m half dead
But Asser could console a churl
He had a canny touch
He was the same with thane or earl
All like him forasmuch
He liked to tell confusing tales
That seemed to wind about
With his dream tale he oft regales
Strange for one so devout"
"Last night I slept and had a dream
And in that dream I dreamed I dreamed
Within that dream inside a dream
There everything was as it seemed
And nothing there was underhand
And all we did, it went as planned
I woke up from that dreaming dream
Woke up inside my other dream
Where everything was underhand
And what we did was not as planned
Then woke up into waking life
I knew I would see grief and strife
And now I wish that I could dream
And in that dream go sleep and dream
And there per hopes perchance I’d gleam
A wisp of what must be God’s scheme"
"Now men may choose to laugh or cry
Each cope the way they may
It’s not for churls to question why
Some tales just make your day"
And Cadwal coped his life was long
He lived to see more strife
In age he ceased to be as strong
And then he joined his wife
And all his folk remembered him
A steadfast and good man
They lived through conflicts dark and grim
Each lived a good long span
There’s minnows in a feeding frenzy
Down in Westford stream
But kingfishers they need to dine
So Death is not a dream
Small things they feed the little fish
And fish they feed the bird
On fish and fowl I feed myself
The worms don’t say a word
The People’s Highway on the Downs [28]
Ran there beside their land
They sold their wares in distant towns
Time trickled by like sand
Through mundane things life may run well
The wheel of time it spins
In joy of living some excel
Not every "victor" wins
The furrow was straight like an arrow
Next those he had ploughed by its side
He never outlived all his sorrow
No matter how hard he had tried
The veins on his brow were all bulging
Like the veins on his oxen’s stout thighs
Sweat down his face was now coursing
And he flinched when it ran in his eyes
The aches in his shoulders were paining
A cold sun shone down on his toil
The oxen were heaving and straining
Their efforts were turning the soil
How can they said to be lowly
Those who toil through each generation
And wrest from a land that is stony
The food that will help feed a nation
Whilst his work may be fixed on the furrow
Within him there was a great soul
And his mind can take flight like a sparrow
Though his view was an Oxen’s arsehole
Now Asser was a goodly man
A bishop to the king
He lived a long contented span
He loved to hear us sing
He came from Plympton to the west
The Walsies [29] live down there
He helped his flock with wondrous zest
He really seemed to care
He’d joined up with King Alfred’s cause
Soon after Alfred won
Between those wars there in the pause
Some good land deals were done
And Asser got the best of this
He joined a winning side
He sought to bring folk worldly bliss
And was not prone to pride
And though his speech was quaint and odd
And strange to understand
He sought to help heal souls for God
He worked hard for our land
Now grief may be deadly thing
Where vengefulness holds sway
If men forget the joy of spring
Though living they decay
"The mercy Alfred shows is wrong
It must make us seem weak
The graves the place where Danes belong
Each one’s a thief and sneak
They’ve driven good men from their lands
And holy shrines they fire
They’ve all got blood upon their hands
And every Dane’s a liar"
"So Alfred’s got his pledge of peace
But what of my dead son?
Their greed for gold will never cease
So how can we have won?
And Alfred thinks he knows their ways
Scares them with alder trees
I pray that he’ll not end his days
A swinging in the breeze
I think he’s wrong but he’s my king
So what am I to do?
I can’t flay them nor anything
I’m simply left to rue
He would not let me drown those Danes
The tide had turned as well
I’ve heard his voice as he explains
I found my dead son on the field
His wound was in his back
The shame of this is never healed
Had he fled that attack?
My wife thinks that our son was brave
But how could that have been?
She often weeps beside his grave
The new grass there is green
His sword was covered in foul gore
There where I found him dead
So he had killed Danes to the fore
Before he turned and fled
Aethelwulf was too soft for war
He dreamed too much as well
But he now rests forever more
I pray he’s not in Hell"
The stillness and commotion
All the joys and pain
With maelstroms of emotion
Those come and go again
The Thane would never know his son
Showed courage on the field
He’d not know what his son had done
Some courage lies concealed
It lies with comrades who lie dead
They’d turned the tide of war
Yet eulogies had gone unsaid
Brave men go on before
Though words beside a grave are fine
But better far is life
To see new days and feel sunshine
To take and bed a wife
To live to see each child grow up
To prosper and grow old
To drink mead from the finest cup
And hear good stories told
Those young men died at Edington
Where history’s tide was turned
With names lost in oblivion
From Death what can be learned?
To die a death that kings may feud
To be stripped by a thief
To have crows peck you bare and nude
To be the cause for grief
A source of sorrow is a fate
That few would choose to be
That there may be more wrath and hate
And that there is no glee
For life is short and hard at times
Though happiness comes cheap
Yet feuding Kings and awful crimes
Leave corpses in a heap
Though grief it is a tainted thing
A mother has to cope
Though Death it has a vicious sting sing
Yet still some live hope
"Oh, Aethelwulf I miss you so
You were a special son
Your memory leaves an inner glow
I’m proud of all you’ve done
Proud of a son who fought so well
And helped to save this land
I pray that with the saints you dwell
All seems now as God Planned
The King has gone to Winchester
Our folk still live at Lyng
Danes now are not so sinister
And we have our great King
And though my son you died for him
You died for us as well
Gone are those days so dark and grim
As we in peace now dwell"
At Martinmas [30] here every year
We will now pray for you
For you had fought and showed no fear
And caused the Danes to rue
For You and all those men in arms
Gave everything to win
And we have lost your grace and charms
Now you sleep free from sin"
"Dear Martin pray do intercede
I know my son died by the sword
He died to save us in our need
And stop the raping pagan horde
In Christ’s name let his soul be found
To be free from foul sin and taint
His body rests here in this ground
Martin you were his patron saint
In sin I grew him in my womb
He lived his life the best he could
Pray hear my words amid this gloom
My dearest boy sought to be good
Martin each year upon your day
Hear all those words sad mothers pray"
Child Aethelwulf and Martin stood
In Paradise there with their Lord
His mother’s prayers were sweet and good
In time she joined that heavenly horde
Lord Asser heard her praying there
One day in later years
He felt a tingle in his hair
And fought to hold back tears
He lost that fight and wept and wept
That woman saw him cry
This yearly vigil she had kept
Alone now by and by
She was an ageing widow now
And all her sons were dead
Her faith had buoyed her up some how
And now she’d soon be dead
But here’s this mighty man of God
Who wept so meek and mild
It did not seem to her that odd
He dried his tears and spoke up then
She seemed so good and pure
She took him back to old times when
His faith had been that sure
"You words can move old men to cry
I knew nought of your son
You do not ask our Good Lord ‘Why?’
Accepting what’s been done
Saint Martin is a soldiers Saint
Few women pray to him
In what you say there’s nothing quaint
Although your loss is grim
Your son I’m sure is with the blessed
Goodness from Goodness comes
I feel he is amongst the best
For mothers know their sons
May when you sleep may then you dream
And dream of your dead lad
And in your dream may each sun beam
Make your heart warm and glad
May you be shown where his soul’s flown
See him there in Christ’s care
Pray may you know what so few have known
God’s love is everywhere
At Edington the young and best
Had died to win us peace
They stopped the heathen so are blessed
Pray one-day wars may cease"
The widow and the Bishop went
And dined in her folks hall
That night the dearest dreams were sent
There’s few dreams we recall
Next day she thanked Lord Asser there
Before he travelled west
She had much joy she sought to share
And words choked in her chest
They talked of happy things ‘til noon
And then they said ‘Goodbye’
He travelled on but stopped quite soon
He stopped briefly to cry
He took the high path ‘long Blackdown
To get tithes from his land
He served the Church he served the Crown
But not all things are planned
He had a gift to help with grief
His manner seemed serene
He helped each to secure belief
Though his heart was not clean
Once he had served a British land
But then he’d left that place
Why he did this none understand
His kinfolk felt disgrace
He served alone his church and creed
He did not rant at all
Heathens he felt had greatest need
To hear his saviour’s call
He loathed those zealots who preached hate
Who flayed each captured Dane
He prayed that it might be their fate
To turn to Christ again
It matters not what is the creed
To those who would do wrong
In causing pain they fill a need
Such men ought not be strong
An old strange hag was took near Bath
By bigots near that town
They took her to the broad high path
To burn her on the down
The fire it did not catch too fast
The drizzle wet the wood
The old hag did not act down cast
Her words were true and good
"You bigots are intolerant
And bigots can cause grief
So proud to be quite ignorant
Safe in your own belief
You have no doubt that doubts are wrong
You kill just when you would
Your main theme is to grow more strong
With no need to act good
A good man who died long ago
Said all should now be loved
But if your creeds some do not know
They will get kicked and shoved
‘Thou shalt not kill’ your teacher said
Though he got crucified
All non-believers are in dread
When they get vilified
How can ‘Loves’ have been turned to ‘Hate’
How can you ‘Christians’ Kill?
Now do not question for your fate’s
To face God’s wrathful will
How proudly some may tote a spear
And strut puffed up with pride
And most have lost all joy and cheer
Poor Jesus how he’s cried
Where is the harm that others do
In their own chosen creed
Say, Bigots, how do we harm you?
And, Why, must others bleed
So many so-called pagans died
All burned up on your fires
Each time now your true Lord has cried
You can’t pick grapes from briars
Each time bad bigots preach and preen
Claiming they’re heaven sent
Show us, do, all that you’ve been
And how your life is spent
Each time you hate a stranger for
Not being just like you
You’re being just a nasty bore
Still – that is nothing new
Why do you hate all pagans so?
Agnostics you detest
And how can so much hatred show
Christ’s message at its best?
While ‘love thy neighbours’ your command
You’re picky who you love
Oh, should Lord Christ now be at hand
Would you be borne above?
Is true Grace now your destiny?
When love is not in you
Now you may spend eternity
In Satan’s sulphurous stew
The Christ Child brought salvation to
The stranger and the thief
Your bigotry is nothing new
You now cause Christ such grief
When atheists you seek to strike
How do you do Christ’s deeds?
For if you do just as you like
His garden’s choked with weeds
‘Judge not’ it says, ‘lest you be judged’
But do you bigots care
When most of Christ’s true words are fudged
There’s hatred everywhere
Most Christian people are exempt
Not all have your disease
Like nightmares some poor Seer has dreamt
You seem so out of ease
Opposing bigotries now stand
The world is deeply rift
With more religions Hate’s at hand
Is this Jehovah’s gift?
So to Megiddo let them go
Those great-armed camps of Hate
And let all their destruction show
The bigots certain fate
Survivors of this great distress
Will learn what life’s about
The future’s there for all to guess
It’s there for Faith and Doubt
The science of Ancients lost
Great Library burnt for Faith
And all the world would bear the cost
Still haunted by this wraith
Faith becomes a morphia
Where ‘Christians’ burned the books
That fire in Alexandria
Burned by those priestly crooks
Like Byzantines who kill the Turk
Bloods spilled for so called ‘Love’
The memory of each crime must lurk
As Jesus weeps above
To hold a different view’s a crime
All bigots have decreed
They’ve stained the whole wide world with slime
They’ve made the whole world bleed
The hatred of the hateful few
Still makes the Saviour cry
In all of this there’s nothing new
It’s why Christ had to die
Some slaver in the killing place
And some at thoughts of Hate
False Faith tells them they’re full of Grace
So twisted is their state
‘We’ they all say ‘are God’s elect’
How did this come about?
How can the ‘chosen’ self-select
And also act the lout
Be sure it cannot be for us
To say who are the saved
Avoid this clamour and this fuss
All bigots are depraved
The witch now burnt the Turk now dead
Tell us some ‘Faith’ is bad
And all the blood that has been bled
Has left the Christ Child sad
For total ‘Faith’ can be a lie
And cunning lies deceive
More gentle Faith must strive and try
To comfort those who grieve
The things done in the ‘Name of God’
Are all the deeds of Man
Not like the lightning strikes the rod
They’re not a Good God’s plan
The hatred of a hateful few
The horror of their hate
In all of this there’s nothing new
Are they the Face of Fate?
Samaritans we know can act
And help a victim up
A bigot who can chant a tract
Would not drink from that cup
Through words not deeds they claim a right
To do just as they may
And all of us may face this blight
When they must have their way
A slightest doubt a pause just brief
Can target some for hate
Unless you hold the same belief
Is this the face of Fate?
How dreary is this damned distress
That’s caused by fiery zeal
The time may come when all express
The feelings that they feel
And circumspection then is dropped
No need to fear again
Then openness all may adopt
Free from false zeal and pain"
The old hag then stopped her tirade
With throat cut open wide
A bigot slashed her with his blade
And in a trice she died
The wind blew dry the fire roared high
Her body was consumed
A young man there who questioned ‘Why’
Found with one word you’re doomed
Some bigots broke his legs right there
And threw him in that fire
The Christ Child was to weep somewhere
Quite close to that hot pyre
None of the wrong they ever did
With all their power and might
Nor all their sins were ever hid
For they thought wrongs were right
Lord Asser heard about this crime
He visited that spot
He knelt and prayed there for some time
No wrong ought be forgot
He prayed atonement for the deed
Prayed kinfolk might forgive
But cold stark vengeance took no heed
In hatred some would live
That Old Hag cared for one small child
Who hid in silent dread
For many years she never smiled
Until those men were dead
Some hounds tore at a woman’s hem
They dragged her to her fate
The hunter hunted after them
With dark and deadly hate
The hunted turn to hunter when
At last they had grown strong
They rage against old villains then
And they themselves do wrong
She wolf had padded by
Her nose had found a scent
She led a hue and cry
And never did relent
The odour of the fear
Of helpless little things
As their death comes near
Oh, what joy it brings
And how can she relent
The fear that pulls her so
Has such a lovely scent
To kill brings such a glow
She tore a fawn with fangs
So white and gleaming bright
No conscience feeling pangs
Prey’s death a juicy bite
The young of some she deer
Was rended by the pack
She wolf scented sweet fear
Blood flecked wolves padded back
She wolf would suckle young
Once safe there in her hide
Her way is for the strong
But luck’s not on her side...
Now grief may be dismal thing
When vengefulness grips tight
The grieving then will feel Death’s string
When killed in some fresh fight
Deep grief it was so burdensome
There, by his dear son’s pyre
His cold dark rage had left him numb
All hopes burned with that fire
He saw his dear son fight so well
He broke the foe’s shield wall
He’d heard that agonising yell
And seen his sweet lad fall
Upon the day this child was born
The Norn had come to him
It seemed he’d now have much to mourn
The future would be grim
The Norn had said when his boy died
Lord Loki would arise
That Norn it seemed she had not lied
He watched the darkening skies
The gods had turned against them here
This mystic land was strange
Now with the god of mischief near
The time had come for change
Gudrum it seemed had failed them so
They’d marched into a trap
He knew now Gudrum had to go
Had caused this dire mishap
They thought they faced a beaten dog
And came into his lair
An army drowned there in a bog
Ah, life just can’t be fair
The maelstroms of emotion
No joy for all is pain
A soul that’s in commotion
And grief has left its stain
Then deadly demons of despair
They tossed his soul about
He sought out vengeance everywhere
And through this wrath he died
The winter night was clear and bright
Orion strode above
A beaten man rose from his plight
His soul was cleanse of love
At sunset neath a waxing moon
A lonesome voice had prayed
"The Norns I know will show all soon
And Fate must be obeyed"
Now grief may be so burdensome
In peacefulness some cope
For bolder hearts do not succumb
And stay quite true to hope
Her husband came home in dark rage
Her son Haldane was dead
Her loss she felt into great age
She wished she died instead
The girl who carried Haldane’s child
Had died when giving birth
This young boy grew up strange and wild
And learned not much of mirth
The old Dane taught the boy to hate
Taught him the ways of Try
The old Dane’s wife resigned to fate
Lived in a constant fear
She’d lost one lovely son to war
His only child grew fast
She prayed to Fri now more and more
That Wedmore’s peace might last
When war it started up once more
Her grandchild could not go
Her husband raged off as before
Where he died she’d not know
She went back North to Ulva’s Isle
To where her son was born
T'was there her grandson learned to smile
She ceased to be forlorn
She’d had good times with her wild Dane
Are memories as they seem?
When her son died she’d felt such pain
That past seemed like a dream
He wrote his special verse for her
The way that some men will
That plaintive verse seemed to confer
A small sweet private thrill
"Is love in life a load of lies?
That dims the wits and clouds the eyes
The way you once confused me so
Made it not clear to tell or know.
Is love itself a thing at all
To search for wonder, shout and call?
Or is it but a Will o’ wisp
We dream of but does not exist?
And yet I say that I love you
And though you say it to me too
Whilst each may hold the other dear
Great loves can have no need to fear
When we can see no means to ends
It’s then that we can be good friends"
The seasons in their cycles spun
Upon that lovely isle
And when her long full span was done
Her dead face seemed to smile
Avenging all the wrong of old revenge
Ebbs turn to flow in all the streams of hate
Revenge brings new wrongs that men must avenge
And few may learn before it is too late
It starts with small things that some could forgive
Return comes back in kind but bigger size
They grow great hatred’s that none can outlive
Sorrow for foes is then sought as a prize
Returning each wrong with one that is worse
Flow turns to ebb and then ebb turns to flow
Old hatreds breed new hatred – life’s a curse
Lived just to vent wrath on the same old foe
Peace may be won where one man takes a chance
When choosing to hold back and not advance
King Alfred won his second war
Built boroughs [31] in the peace
He worked ceaseless upon each chore
With death his work would cease
He sought to educate this land
And teach his thanes to read
But soon new war would be at hand
As new Danes came with greed
The youngest son that his sweet mother bore
King Alfred when quite young had learned much verse
But he lived through dark times so insecure
When plundering Danes became a constant curse
In life he loved to read great books of old
Old English and good Latin he could write
His works were bound in books embossed with gold
He’d sooner work on books than have to fight
But fighting was how he spent much of life
He fought and learned from each dark sad defeat
Confounding those who lived by blood and strife
He was most dangerous in his long retreat
He crushed his foe by canny choice of ground
The cornered stag had lured the slavering hound
Alone there in the chancel and the gloom
King Alfred struggled with the text he read
Boethius [32] wrote of impending doom
That man knew that too soon he would be dead
Most of the prose and verse seemed to make sense
On some ideas the scholar king got lost
He’d worked hard on this task that seemed immense
But in the gloom and twilight there’s a cost
With aching eyes the words spun in his mind
His feet were cold and now he felt quite bleak
The text he read showed this world was unkind
He’d worked too long and hunger made him weak
Philosophy to Alfred seemed quite grand
But in his heart he knew war was at hand
Alfred lived within the shade of hate
He faced a cruel dark foe
His greatness seemed to be his fate
Though how are we to know?
He may have sooner lived at peace
Than see his good men die
Resisting wrath may never cease
This left his soul to sigh...
"There is no point in war save but to win
No point in all the chaos, save that one
To kill may be a foul and awful sin
War’s only worth the strife where war is won"
ContentsPrayers, sonnets and verses Shooting Stars Sinking and Arising Sonnet – Bare Bones Prayer of the Beaten Men St Gildas Day 878 the Retreat Ends The Valley of the Brue Crossing Ferran Meare to Lyng Bran the Boatman The Ferryman’s Song Bran and Alfred Cadwal the Swineherd’s Lost Peace Signs of a New Spring Celandine in Flower Raven’s Shadow The Sea Breeze Confident Danes below the Polden Hills Cur Attacks Canny King The Chant of the Somerset Fyrd The Shield Wall at Edington Retaliation Trepidation More Trepidation Sonnet – The Crossover Mischance The Flight Thieves ‘tidy up’ Gudrum Encamps at Dundon Hill Holly Flowers The Grief of the Northern Thane The Urge to Avenge The Captives Tale The March from Burtle to Westhay The Confounded Thane Unbending Ha |