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Whoever First Quenches the Flames Poetic form: Villanelle
The son of Sif, master of skis and snow,
Splendid stepson of Midgard’s ally:
Hail the Glorious God of the Bow!
In his Dale of Yews, chill winter winds blow
While ripples of colored lights smear his sky:
The son of Sif, master of skis and snow.
When Allfather must fare to realms below,
Awesome Ollerus rules, and so skalds cry
"Hail the Glorious God of the Bow!"
A wily warrior, the howlers` woe,
So fearsome in combat none long defy
The son of Sif, master of skis and snow.
A skilled sorcerer, well does he know
The ways to enchant, to craft, and to scry.
Hail the Glorious God of the Bow!
All praise Ullr! Long may his arrows fly!
Shield Lord, Hunting God, Wuldor Most High,
The son of Sif, master of skis and snow:
Hail the Glorious God of the Bow!
© 2005 Sorn Skald
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Image: © Analemma McKee Burrows, faux stained glass original. Used with permission.