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The Iron Serpent
In between of time and space.
Hallowing with fire the place.
Honoured gods at bloting feast.
Distant call of howling beast.
Drinking from the sumbel horn.
Twilight gloam of dusk and dawn.
Turning of a foreign curse.
Power in well written verse.
Protected by a lucky charm,
returning loved one without harm.
Rememberance of kinsfolk dead.
Carving, painting runes in red.
Clipping of the dead mans nail.
Witches seething under veils.
Written truth from times of yore,
learning by the ancient lore.
Libation poured unto the earth.
Security in family hearth.
Sitting out on elven barrow.
Offerings left at the harrow.
Occurances that come in nine.
Flowing course of river Rhine.
Felling of a greater foe.
Warmth that comes by Sunna's glow.
Weaving of a certain doom.
Shadows in a caverns gloom.
Steadfast in the clash of shields,
ravens flock nearby in fields.
Reflected in a lovers eye,
lightning, thunder cross the sky.
Lingering of young girls glance.
Exileration at the dance.
Exposed on lonely mountains hight,
graceful glide of eagles flight.
Gentle drift of Yimr's brains,
standing in their cooling rains.
Sacrifice pressed in the bog.
Burn again the Yuletide log.
Birthing of the newly born.
Ripening to gold the corn.
Respectful of ancestral bones.
Secrets in the standing stones.
Swearing oath on trothing ring.
Colours changing seasons bring.
Comming to the thing in peace,
rejoicing now hostilities cease.
Reception of an honoured guest.
Places that the wights have blessed.
Pride thats found in honest boast.
Credit to a gracious host.
Clensing in the saunas heat.
Taken by the drummers beat.
Taking on your elders rede.
Pinnacle of a famous deed.
Polstars constant splendid glow.
Mani's tidal ebb and flow.
Morning light in ancient glade,
or deeping woods cooling shade.
Doning of a dark blue cloak.
Customs of the local folk.
Constant shift of world and star.
Wise to what the kennings are.
Wisdom from the sacred plants.
Abstraction by the rhythmic chants.
Abundance of good mead and food.
Shinning of a mind thatīs shrewd.
Seeress leaning on her staff.
Children as they play and laugh.
Casting first the battle spear.
Face the future without fear.
From darkest depths to stars unseen,
and all of that is in between.
Đ Neal Grout
Authorīs notes on the title: The idea
being that iron is holy; "serpent" refers to the rhymes snaking down
the poem.
Neal
Grout's Journal
Image: Frisian
drinking horn, 1397
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