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The Keepers Of The Keys
Frigga’s daughters in Midgard dwell, the keepers of the keys
And they are the thread that strongly binds the ancestral tapestries,
Frigga’s presence evident in everything they do,
The meal that’s cooked, the children clothed, the established Family Thew.
We call Frigga’s daughters Mother, Sister, Friend or Wife,
We often take for granted their presence in our life,
The love they give unselfishly, the loyalty displayed,
When, in fact, we should be thanking them for sacrifices made,
For long nights spent with little ones too sick to go to sleep,
For pulling just as hard as menfolk when the road becomes too steep,
For putting others before themselves without a second thought,
For every time they stood behind us while we fiercely fought.
Raise the horn to Frigga and the gift she has bestowed,
The gift of daughters from which immeasurable riches flow
Love and laughter, kindness, strength, life and loyalty
Raise the horn to Frigga’s daughters, the keepers of the keys.
© Johnny Whitebread