Here be ghosts

Here be ghosts

Introduction to ‘Here be ghosts’

This is another poem looking at places with variations of the Anglo-Saxon word for ghost in their names. It is suggested that place names form a kind of palimpsest, layered meaning to our landscape. Grimley was given to the church for absolution by a king. Grimescar wood is an as yet unexcavated Roman settlement. Skinburness slid into the sea. All that is left of Scuccan Hlau is a hole in the ground!

Here be Ghosts

The earth still abounds, with phantom’s remains,

Saxon palimpsest, ghostly village names.

Illusion or real, in name to preserve,

The ghostly remains, and spectre to serve.

Grimley from grima, Saxon for Spectre,

Ghostly woodland glade, his soul’s protector.

King of Mercians, gave up the ghost land,

So he with angels, in heaven could stand.

Yorkshire Grimescar wood, is spectre’s skerry,

Phantasm in glade, away with the fairy.

The ghosts of Romans, still trapped in the wood,

Wassailing flagons, found where they once stood.

Grimshaw in Pendle, small wood with a stream,

In centre of wood, they can’t hear thee scream.

Copse haunted by ghost, Saxon’s styled the wood,

For a thousand years, coppice it has stood.

Old Nordic skyrsi, Viking phantasm,

Skirse Gill in Yorkshire, is spectre’s chasm.

Dry stone pen over, earthly incision,

Manifestation, or ghostly vision.

Skirsgill Hill Cumbria, ancient settlement,

Its last standing stone, sings Nordic lament.

On industrial park, hidden away,

Used to be honoured, first Sunday in May.

Skinburness headland, on phantasm coast,

Saxon’s said scinna, where now we say ghost.

Village in salt marsh, with ghostly stronghold,

Then vanished under, into the sea cold.

Saxon Scuccan Hlau, was the spectre’s mound,

Became Warren farm, water hole in ground.

Fertile Nerthus earth, was taken away,

Spectres spirits ghosts, have had the last say.

Grimston a message from the past

Grimston a message from the past

introduction to ‘Grimston (ghost settlement) a message from the past’

This poem focuses on a hamlet and old peoples home just outside of York on the road to Stamford Bridge. The landscape around contains many towns and features called through their many Saxon names after significant constructs. For reasons of clarity all the Saxon words on the modern map are translated into modern English within the poem.

Grimston – a message from the past?

Were Yorkshire village, Grimston it was named,

Ghost wood to west dial, hast not yet been tamed.

Reduced so only, does hamlet remain,

The ghost farm hamlet, on elf friendly lane.

Lying south east dial, village of elf friends,

Where elf friendly lane, cunningly extends.

Witch friendly village, it lays to the west,

To south dial village, is death ditch possessed.

North dial witches wood, south dial witches wood,

But here thirteen hearth, ghost hall it once stood.

Death ditch to south dial, or is drake a beast?

But thirteen hearth hall, is long since deceased.

Grew ghost manor where, there once stood ghost hall,

Then ghost court arose, and manor did fall.

Now ghost court awaits, the angel of death,

And folk take their last, shallow ghostly breath.

Saxon messages, through time they have passed,

Death ditch or dragon, warning from the past?

Elves witches and ghosts, in landscape around,

Still angle of death, is to the land bound.

Copyright Andrew Rea March 2012

Angel of death

Angel of death

Introduction 

Note: this poem was inspired by separate conversations with three nurses that had worked on terminal wards. All of which could recount several cases, as witnessed first hand, of a person who was in their last hours or days apparently seeing another person standing by their bed that was not in corporeal form to be seen by the nurse. Some nurses see this as a sign that the end is near.

In this poem we imagine ourselves back in Saxon times as the healer in the village comes to her end and is greeted by the kindly angle of death (Wodan was also called Grimr) to guild her to the other world. I have made her very old for the period, about 60. A study concluded that 97.5% of people were dead by 50 during Saxon times. The description of her abode is based on archaeological evidence. The reference to aelf shot is from medical books of the time, see Lacnunga and leech books, and refers to any disease caused by an aelf firing an invisible arrow into you, e.g. any viral infection. A galdor is a charm, spell or incantation, from galan= to sing (preserved in the word nightingale). Heofon is the forerunner to heaven. The way of Wyrd was a fatalistic world view where there was an underlying connecting principle, similar to the way of Tao.

Angel of death

Small pit hut, with reeds on the floor,

No windows but, an oaken door.

Copper cauldron, over fire stone,

Warn old thatched roof, medicinal crone.

Old wise wife man, soon to be gone,

Healing people, thirty years long.

The angel of death, now close by,

Helping her to, depart and die.

The last night tide, here at last,

Toiling in meads, forty years passed.

On wooden bed, and straw there laid,

With elder daughter, there to aid.

Herbs in mead, carefully uproot,

Fifty years finding, nuts and fruit.

Survived she war, plague and child birth,

Gaest she soon, to mother earth.

Weapon man gone, many a year,

Sixty winters, soon on her bier.

In small village, eldest was she,

But aelf shot did, she not foresee.

Daughter now older, than most folk,

Waiting for Wodan, wrapped in cloak.

Mother’s galdors, not all well learnt,

Which fragrant herbs, should beest burnt.?

Runes to charm, hot cauldron to brew,

Which herbs to keep, the mixture true.

Where when how, healing herbs to find,

No one morrow, her to remind.

Oh Heofon death, where art thy sting,

Kind angel of death, other world bring.

In the morrow, another day,

The children play, this is Wyrd’s way.

Copyright Andrew Rea 2010

Here be Tiw

Here be Tiw

Introduction to 'Here be Tiw’  - god of war

Tuesley Surrey Virgins refers to the convent that now resides on the old sacred site and look after a rock garden with a statue of Mary where the temple to Tiw once stood, not far from a sacred spring.

Tysoe Warwickshire had at lease five horses cut into the land – one over the over, recorded as early as 1607. The last of these was covered over about 1910/14 and planted with trees. The manors were held by the Knights Templars and later by the Knights Hospitallers.

Tewin Hertfordshire, Lady Grimston, (Grim often means ghost in old English) had unconventional religious views and on her death bed said that when seven trees grew on her tomb she would return. A single tree grows on her tomb but has seven trunks, her ghost is often seen in the church yard.

Here be Tiw

Send us success! Help my sword cut true,

See spear stays sharp! Help us to push through.

Thee we invoke, with us in shield wall,

Brave Saxon god, cause our foes to fall.

Tuesley Surrey, Domesday Tiwesle,

Hamlet of Tiw, Old English Tīwes lēah.

Mary’s church where, thine temple once stood,

Virgins guard statue, rock garden wood.

Triple village, Tysoe Warwickshire,

Tíw's spur of land? Church of thousand year.

Horse Tui, war Tiw, what was Tysoe’s source?

Knights Templars gone, tall trees cover horse.

Tiw’s enclosure, Tewin Hertfordshire,

Seventh century church, Tiw's temple to clear.

Lady Grimston, had a ghostly name,

Tomb Tree of seven, shining spectre became.

Stand fast shield wall! Power to spear blade,

Bold daring brave! we are not afraid.

Help sword to slice! rend their blades untrue,

Send us success! to us we brave few.

Copyright Andrew Rea September 2012

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