In the witching hour

Introduction

Set in January in Anglo-Saxon England, this poem explores the period of wakefulness between first and second sleep known as the watch. We know from Bede that the goddess of spring honoured in March (Hrethmonath) was Hretha as this is mentioned in his 'on the computation of time' and that she defeated the winter goddess. We do not know for sure who Hretha (later known as Erce) fort to defeat 'winter', but from the study of similar Germanic folklore I propose that it may have been the winter goddess Hella.

In the witching hour

Short days of dark, midwinter gone,

Light waxes just, crisp cold wanes strong.

Lighting long ruses, dipped in lard,

Yule behind us, soil still hard.

Bed of dry straw, on rush mat floor,

No windows just, a wooden door.

Storytelling, centered on fire,

Ladies Bed Straw, snug in the shire.

After first sleep, what was that dream!

Laying awake, things aren’t what they seem.

With Valkyrie, soaring in sky,

Flying above, frozen fields high.

Shape of darkness, shine spirit fire,

Fading fairies, begin to tire.

Defying cold, clime out of bed,

Drawn to warm hearth, breaking some bread

In flint stone hearth, ashes still glow,

Smoke in long hair, embers to blow.

Rake spent ash through, smoke sleepy eyes,

Logs go on fire, flames to arise.

Kindling embers, to bring forth flame,

Dancing shadows, to life they came.

Crisp crunching chill, cold clear moon bright,

Brave it outside, in dead of night.

End of first watch, twixt sleep and wake,

Flickering light , bones no longer ache.

Lay low in bed, fire burning bright,

Raunchy bed straw, in quiet of night.

Four legged beast, farmer's delight,

Dark riding rite, in quiet of night.

Say special prayer, save souls to keep,

Silently slowly, comes second sleep.

Star of first light, cold as Helheim,

Morning mead mist, raw winter time.

Hretha still sleeps, Hella’s hand holds fast

Winter's weary wind, spell not yet cast.

Copyright Andrew Rea September 2012