October (Winterfylleth)

October (Winterfylleth)


Introduction
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

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

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

Here be Frig

Here be Frig

Introduction 

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 Asgard, passion 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 Mary’s 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 Mary’s church known, in twelve eighty one,

Fretherne Court destroyed, but why was it done?

Freefolk, in Hampshire, with Mary's new church,

Frigefolc’s 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

September (Halig-monath)

September (Halig-monath)

Introduction

September was referred to as the holy month and was the ninth month of the year except in a leap year when the addition of an extra month (third Month of Litha) moved it to 10th place. Nine was a very magical number for the Saxons; eg ‘the lay of the nine herbs of Woden’. The gathering of the harvest was now in full swing with hopefully much cause for rejoicing.

In early Saxon times Nerthus as mentioned by Saint Bede in his: ‘On the computation of time’ was the Goddess of the harvest until she was eventually replaced as a fertility Goddess by Frig.

Wuldorfadur or ‘Sky Father’, again from Saint Bede, represented the solar logos and worked in conjunction with Nerthus in the fields.

September (Halig-monath)

Halig-monath, the month so holy,

The darkness now, returning slowly.

Gather the crop, for winter living.

Month of offering, of thanksgiving,

Festival to, rejoice the harvest.

Among the rigs, we do now invest.

Earth Mother Nerthus, has sent her best

Thanks be given, to her for this fest.

Blessing us with, a good gathering,

Autumn libations, to usher in.

Sky Father Wuldorfadur, shon down,

And now the meadows, are turning brown.

Offer in the meads, this harvestide,

Among the rigs, and by the wayside.

Give thanks for the corn, to make the bread,

Let us raise a toast, a whole hogshead.

Copyright Andrew Rea 2008

Evocation of John Barleycorn

Evocation of John Barleycorn

By the firm earth beneath my roots.

By the sap rising in my long shank,

By the breeze in my supple sheaves,

By the fullness of my cornels,

By the might of my burly beard,

I here stand proud before thee.

Standing tall and straight, thee do me adore,

Sudden end with sharp blade, as if to war.

My neck wilt be cut, with greatest of care,

My spirit set free, by they who doth dare.

With a flying scythe, falling to the ground,

Into a great sheaf, to be twisted and bound.

To be poured from a jug, into a long horn,

To be reborn as ale, thee shalt not mourn.

Copyright Andrew Rea July 2012

Here be Thunor (þunor)

 Here be Thunor (þunor)

Introduction

In this poem I look at places in England whose names trace back to Thunor in Anglo-Saxon times.

Thursley in Surrey made both cannon and shot, forged iron, had iron hammer ponds and has a rocky outcrop on its common named Thor's Stone, the bounds of this parish include the Devils Punch Bowl. This place had an abbot named Thor in 975 and an archdeacon Thor in 1100.

Essex has two such villages and one surviving hundred, there was a second hundred but this has now been incorporated into Hinckford hundred.

One village gave its name to an air field used during the war, another hosted a barracks. There is one village that moved about 1km to the west, the Victorians even moved the church but for some reason left the tower which is now purported to be haunted. If you look it up on the net you will find some blood curdling vidios posted, it seems to have a very unsettling effect on both young and the more mature alike!

þunor wéoh in Old English means ‘Thunor make sacred’.

Here be Thunor (þunor)

Chariot of storms, thunder ride in sky,

Oaken god of strength, on high hill close by.

With hammer and wain, in clashing clouds clad,

Hallower of fields, fertile þunnorad.

 

Domesday Thunreslea, Essex Thundersley,

Site of Saxon church, pledge oaths unto thee.

Thunor's sacred grove, on top of the hill,

Taken by Benfleet, but still has his will.

Domesday Tunreslea, with five hives of bee,

Sits sacred clearing, Essex Thunderley.

Planes thundered over, Thunor's sacred grove,

In Saffron Walden, fighting spells they wove.

Thunor made sacred, this Thurstapell land,

In Domesday Essex, his pillar did stand.

Saxon Stapoll named, after the divine,

Thurstable hundred, had villages nine.

Thunderlow Hundred, Thunor’s sacred mound,

Two small villages, were in Domesday found.

Hinckford this hundred, they came to annex,

Saxon þunor hlæw, in Domesday Essex.

Domesday Tonrinch was, Thundridge Hertfordshire,

It's church they did move, but left tower in fear?

The Victorians took, All Hallows away,

Leaving the tower, possessed by the Fey.

Thursley in Surrey, made cannon and gore,

Saxon Thunreslea's, two clerics named Thor.

To Devils Punch Bowl, and barracks beyond,

Thor's Stone on common, and iron hammer pond.

Barnhorne Sussex had, Þunorslege inside,

This place Thunor’s grove, from time it has died.

Its soldierly camp, from Gerry didst hide,

Thunor's lost barracks, on the other side.

Nine other places, named after Thunor,

Four fields and four groves, one mound perhaps more?

Though eight of those, places cannot be found,

They still ring out to, þunor wéoh Sound.

Copyright Andrew Rea Lammas 2012