How the blog works

The poems on this blog are mostly written on the basis of my historical reading and are intended to be both educational and entertaining.
Recently I have also begun posting some of my work with Anglo-Saxon charms. This work is somewhat speculative and is conducted as an amateur researcher and keen Pagan historian.

Please feel free to use anything on this site as a resource if you think that it may be relevant to your needs.

Monday, 24 September 2012

October (Winterfylleth)

October (Winterfylleth)

While many of my poems are in rather loose pentameter, this is the only one that I have attempted to scribe in pure iambic pentameter. The poem, set of course in Saxon times, is based around the Saxon idea that this month was considered to be the first month of winter.

October (Winterfylleth)

Winterfylleth, Winter-tides first full moon,
First full silver moon of month, wilt come soon.
Leaves on the ground, smell the seasons moist scent,
Summer tides full heat, has been fully spent.

Honour Thunor, for his winter potent,
Hollentide in spirit, power ascent.
Let’s celebrate, fear not winters starting,
Shalt we rejoice, at summers departing.

Lord Wodan, of magic winter tide come,
Tame and subdue, ruthless coldness succumb.
'Wild Hunt' leading, the dashing and darting,
Thine own strength and defence, art thou imparting.

Misty dimness, gloomy landscapes extent,
Descent into shadows, shalt we lament?
Shape of darkness, with the blackest torment,
Let’s not lament, into shadows descent.

Copyright Andrew Rea 2009

Monday, 17 September 2012

Sutton Hoo

Sutton Hoo
Introduction to Sutton Hoo
The poem starts by describing the best preserved Saxon barrow burial in detail. It then goes into Saxon dragon lore and beliefs, without which the mound would without doubt have been plundered in antiquity. Finally the poem ends with a cryptic reference to the timing of the modern excavation, leaving the reader free to draw their own conclusion.

Sutton Hoo (624AD)
East Angles misty mead, ship of ninety feet,
In its final dry dock, noble of fleet.
Leader of Wuffing, death thee could not cheat,
Long robed sorcerer, galdor complete.

Splendid Raedwald, interred within thy ship,
Wodan lead thy soul, on its final trip.
An epic journey to, Woden's mead hall,
With thine drinking horn, final port of call.

Thine chamber formed, from the oaken tree,
Decorated helmet, to protect thee.
Dragons on thy crest, forming a stiff shank,
Strong shining bronze boars, ever guard thy flank.

Laid out with thy finest, silver and gold,
Sword and spear, to Valhalla for the bold.
War shield of linden, placed beside thine head
Mead hall of Woden, reserved for the dead

Galdorcraeftiga, last spell for thee cast,
Blunting others swords, all now in the past.
Thine sword by thy hand, ship without a mast,
The gates of Valhalla, still to be passed.

Long chain mail tunic, folded next to thee,
Caldrons and grill, a bucket of yew tree.
Ten silver bowls, by thy head in the west,
Buckets of fine mead, for forthcoming fest.

A dragon doth come, sniffing out thy hoard,
Guarding thy wyrm bed, for this our great lord.
Taking possession, of thy treasure mound,
Do not disturb him, and he will sleep sound.

Do not disrupt him, let him stay earth bound,
You may awake him, if his hoard is found.
Guarding his treasure, through long mists of time,
Steeling his treasure, anger wilt thee prime.

If he awakes. then destruction will come,
Screaming over land, there be death to some.
Thirteen centuries later, opening mound,
Taking thy hoard, thine golden treasure found.

Thine sacred barrow, dug and ripped apart,
All hallowed items, merely works of art.
Noble earth dragon, he was long benign,
Till he was enraged, May of thirty nine.

Copyright Andrew Rea 2010

Tuesday, 11 September 2012

Spell of invincibility

Spell of invincibility
This one is just a bit of fun to give confidence, playing with elements and Saxon Wights (mythical beings) and needs no introduction.

Spell of invincibility

Travel like an elf, as fast as the Wind,
Be a bright shining one, with him now twinned.

Fight like a drake, as potent as Fire,
Be strong of heart, soar higher and higher.

Yield like a nymph, as flowing as Water,
A fluid solution, all may thee alter.

Arise like a dwarf, as firm as the Earth,
Be to make ready, for thine own rebirth.

Copyright Andrew Rea 2009

Monday, 3 September 2012

Here be Frig

Here be Frig

In this poem we look at places in England who’s name can be traced back to the Saxon goddess Frig. These can be split into three groupings: those places that are lost, those places that have no churches (perhaps just a farm or small hamlet), and those that can be found and have a church of which I have found just four. Three of these villages or hamlets have a church dating back to Saxon or at least medieval times named after Mary the only exception is ‘Saint Nicholas’s. However it seems that the Victorians were discontent with this church and built another about 300m away so now we have a hamlet with two churches, oh and the name of the new church well its Saint Mary’s of course, but if you want to displace a goddess well what better than to replace her with Mary.
The reference to This Seven one three, refers to a carving on the capitol of a column formed in the 13C when the North wall was taken down, the full inscription reads: this seven one three found hear

Here be Frig

First thy art Nerthus, Frig Goddess of love,
Queen of all Asgardpassion from above.
In all four cases, thee find when thee search,
Her place of worship, now saint Mary's church.

Old Froli now Froyle, Frig's Hill in Hampshire,
Vicar often drank, brace of port in cheer.
To let air in church, he broke window panes,
Saint Mary's church with, two hamlets remains.

Yorkshire Fridaythorpe, village of Frig's day,
And Saint Marys church, is found in Domesday.
Eight hundred years ago, ancient secret scrawl,
This seven one three, what was within wall?

Small Domesday village, Fretherne Gloucestershire,
Perhaps Frig's thorn-bush now two houses here.
St Marys church known, in twelve eighty one,
Fretherne Court destroyed, but why was it done?

Freefolk, in Hampshire, with Mary's new church,
Frigefolcs Nicholas, was left in the lurch.
As queen of Asgard, needs temple close by,
This hamlet didst build, second church on high.

All of these places, found in Domesday book,
All have church to Mary, thee just need to look.
Some scholars dispute, her name in there hides,
Some Pagans see best, since Mary resides.

Copyright Andrew Rea Aug 2012