NAVIGATION

                    Poetry 1

Hervor daughter of Heidrek dying, a painting by Peter Nicolai Arbo

Heidrek had a daughter whom he named Hervor. She was a shieldmaiden and was the commander of a Gothic fort facing Myrkviðr, and she would fall in battle against the Huns (see Hlöd, Hlöðskviða).

WARRIORS WILL by Bodvarr Vilhjalmur

Battle torn, worn and weak,
I stand in line to fight
The wolf is hungry for his meat,
Which I'll not be tonight.

My sword I raise above my head,
And sound my battle horn.
Odin if you hear me,
My allegiance has been sworn.

The strength of Thor is in me,
I'll not fall as prey.
With Tyr along to guide me,
I'll find victory this day!

My brothers lay before me,
In battle they've been beat.
They died like noble Norseman,
So in Valholl we will meet.

Battle torn, worn and weak,
This conflict has run long!
The wolf has had his fill of meat
The warriors will is strong

Hail the Einherier!
Hail those that have served.
Hail to the fallen!
All Hail those now falling.

NOT YET DEAD By Gunnolfr Odinsson

The snow fell heavy on that winters night,
Wounded and battered from that mornings fight.
The banging of steel rang loud in his head,
He lay the day unconscious but not yet dead.

When he rose he saw that the battle was done,
He searched for his brethren but found not a one.
Snow covered bodies littered the ground,
Only the dead in that field would be found.

His wounds ceased to bleed though the pain was still there,
He started to walk though he knew not to where.
He limped through the snow bearing his pain,
In hopes that his brethren had not all been slain.

Hours had passed yet he saw no ones fires,
And his will to survive began to expire.
He fell to the snow and looked forward to death,
When a whisper roared aloud in his head.

This is not your time a beautiful voice spoke,
And he saw Odin's daughter appear out of smoke.
She waved her hand and beckoned him to come,
Towards a light that appeared where there had been none.

Again he walked forward toward the light she had shown,
And in just a moment his courage had grown.
His Valkyrie had inspired him to live and move on,
So he focused on the light and walked until dawn.

In the morning he saw that the light was a fire,
And the smoke in the air rose higher and higher.
He wondered if the camp was of friend or of foe,
He knew he'd been seen so soon he would know.

As he gazed at their standard, the winged death head,
His brother he embraced who had thought he was dead.
He was helped to the camp where he would be safe,
And he spoke of his Valkyrie, his brothers amazed.

They thought of the Vikings of old, Odin's men
And wondered if the blessings were extended to them.
But one of them knew for a fact that they were,
For if not for his Valkyrie he'd be dead for sure.

ODIN'S WRATH RETURNS by Gunnolfr Odinsson

There he stood at Olaf's gate,
Wrapped in blue a one eyed wraith.

As a guest he enters the hall,
and speaks to a king as if he were a thrall.

His words fall upon Olaf's ears like thunder,
and the fear the king feels causes him to wonder.

If this is Odin the All-father himself,
why doesn't Christ appear as well?

Does he shake in fear as the king now does,
or does Jehovah himself lack the courage to come.

None the less the king retires,
to his chamber and well lit fires.

Trying to convince himself that Odin is dead,
Yet shuddering fearfully in his bed.

He shuts his eyes and prays aloud,
in hopes that he will not be found.

To no avail he feels the wind,
and knows that Odin is now within.

He opens his eyes and gasps with fear,
as the one eyed man in blue draws near.

With dire intent the old man smiles,
Hello Olaf its been awhile

The time has come for me to rest,
perhaps an intermission would be best.

So pray to your Christ to save you this day
for he is as hollow as the words you say.

I will return to take my place again,
when the world is ready but not till then.

But those that are true will await my return,
within their hearts my fire still burns.

Odin then turned to walk away,
as the coward beneath the sheets still prayed.

For he knew that Odin was not dead,
and his life would be forfeit instead.

STONE & FIRE

The Legend of Wednesbury Hill by Rig Svenson

Stone and fire, flint and steel
Blooded land of Wadnesberrie Hill
Saint Bartholomew crowning glory
Built by Christians to hide a secret story

 Of a legendary ruler King Penda
A true son of Mercia with a Wodenic agenda
A pagan prince of these marshlands
United the heathens under one clan

  To rid Middle England of Christian Kings
He raised and trained an army of athelings
The battle slain of old Valhalla calls
For men of valour, for men with balls

Or Woden as the English know him
It is still the same god, frick I am going
To tell of Penda’s Wodenic shrine
Bloody war gods since the beginning of time

 In a reddening tide of ancient measure
Blood sacrifice being Odin’s treasure
From gallows tree, the green mighty oaks
Hark the mystery of the stone uncloaks

 To view a pagan shrine in the midst of a feld
Today you know it as Wednesfield
The Dog and Partridge today lies on the site
Where men were killed in sacrificial rite

Woden Stone; listen to its eerie sound
Of rustling runes still underground
Light spectres and ghosts come out at night
Making the bravest of men take to flight

For what has been, was it history?
Or just another Dark Age mystery?
Does Gabriel’s hounds bay in the night
Giving the locals there a terrible fright

Bright shinning lights turn night into day
The hills alive so some may say
Robed bearded priest with blade foreboding
Appear to sacrifice victims again to Odin

 Wednesfeld shrine moved to the top of a hill
Where a church now stands in Wadnesburrie
Great Oaks trees grew there so lush and so high
Whilst bodies hung of them and touching the sky

 Music:- Theme from Predator Artist:- Alan Silvestri

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