The Haegtesse Rides Out
The clerical troupe, came padding along,
Riding sturdy steeds, on trodden path long.
In green shady wood, through vast dark forest,
Then thundering in, came a frightening guest.
A fearsome shrill voice, a terrible sound,
Pounding Heathen hoofs, thunder on the ground.
Women from the sky, ride out in a pack,
The helmet beings, behind our cold back.
We shiver and cringe, with nowhere to hide,
Their red eyes flaming, ever onward they ride.
Like ghosts of wild woods, thrashing and smashing,
Gliding through forest, thundering crashing.
Mighty cavalcade, women of power,
Tha mihtigan wif, make everyone cower.
Coming from the right, drawing up beside,
Clashing spears and shields, screaming on they
cried.
Their three pronged weapons, with scarlet dripping,
Supernatural terror, branches ripping.
Shadowy shield-maidens, such curses they cast,
Swiftly traversing, and rushing straight past.
Ridding in straight line, Haegtesse ride out,
Wearing ragged tatters, they scream and shout.
Dark shadow goers, rip forest ahead,
The hags disappear, and leave us with dread.
Copyright Andrew Rea, April Fools Day 2019
Introduction
This poem is an expansion of a supposed sighting of the
Haegtesse recorded in Anglo-Saxon writings.
As
they went, praying, through a vast forest, heard a fearsome voice, assuredly
from a kind of terrible being, on the right-hand side alongside them,
terrifyingly making a great noise an old woman, with her garments ragged and holding
in her hand a bloody three-pronged weapon, and in a swift course traversing the
vast woods and rushing past, following after him in a straight line.
