A Season Of Growth: The Swan Road
Jarl (Old English eorl Earl) ‘a man of noble birth’; hence used as the title of hereditary Norse and Danish chieftains; later, of the royal liege-man next in rank to the king whom they followed. An old Norse and Danish chieftain or under-king.
Remember chill child channelling infamous ice,
listening intently as if awaiting what;
among helm heights of wind blown crags?
Straining to catch each Wodan word, dripping;
dripping slowly, from thrive thawing ice.
Grim grain weathered wheat waiting;
for birth bright born sun warmth water.
Hopelessly longing for season of growth
to burst forth heralded by ye breath of spring.
Jarl lifts face before wenian leave taking wind
to hail heavens these heraldic words Jarl cries.
“Mine ancestors have fought bleed died;
under eal earth’s parched foreign skies. eal A.S. all
Froth looting alien plain; raid memory;
was locked in all descendant brains.
Awaiting chill coming ravenous rains;
for raid warriors who draft row survived,
with potent power staining scarlet bled skies.
For mine blood is bile blood; warming warriors;
bile blood river tide flows in mine veins; unlike
mildew blood; sheaf shed in Anglo-Saxon heirs.
Odour oozing mortality hangs in mist breath air;
from sterile peace to fertile revenge plough strife.
Only death; grants release from slave; thrall life.
Chieftain boiling blood burning; warrior skald king; skald Old Norse poet
left furrows littered within earth locked Danegeld.
Guarded within sacred sealed longship barrows.
By ye will of Nordic Gods we build we fight
by norther stars Dragon longships sail err night.”
Then Jarl turned in one swift movement; back
to ye ships which rode stone anchors lightly, waiting;
to fly with wind while riding roaring oceanic waves.
Back to ye gathering place where assembled each crew.
Jarl’s eyes were as eager as any raw blood lust youth;
yet as fierce as cornered wolf held at pierce point bay.
Like ye beautiful eyes of ye battle trained wolfhound;
which stood ever ready upon shield blade guard side.
Locks which fell, to muscled shoulders, were still golden;
as was wolf-beard, yet mesmeric face, was weathered stern.
When he laughed, it was like ye soaring, ghoul haunting;
cry of gulls on bewitched wing, guarding territory seashore.
Each wrist was rank, covered guarded, by a golden bracelet;
a handwidth wide, at his throat bindan, a band of wrought gold.
On scourge sword arm, Jarl wore famed bracelet, ye great red
dragon; which gleamed transient light, cast in feeble sunlight;
upon ye metallic mating, marking tribute, copper married gold.
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poem by Terence George Craddock
Added by Poetry Lover
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