Brew of the warlock
The yearly yule before the Forethule had thus betided,
upon a full moon and the Saxons had soon gathered.
The sith where the goddess Eoster was worshiped ever,
and the young maidens sought amain to wed an atheling.
The sundry tales of seidhr were kept alive in the elders,
and the time where the maidens bathed and lathered.
They frolicked with the winsome elves and dwarves,
as the clansmen sang and drunk mead with a stripling.
But soon the stillness of the blitheness was to be broken,
by the brew of a selfish fiend whose gryre he was to breed.
A warlock was to come upon a day there amid the Saxons,
and with his harmful brew he then wielded the kingdom.
Upon a gleesome morning as the kinsfolk brooked in frith,
a being bonded the wyrd of the clans out of his greed.
A frood warlock with the guise of a daring atheling came,
before the maidens who he bewitched through swikdom.
The comeliest maidens did not overcome his wicked spell,
as each fell swiftly afterwards under his soothing galdor.
Amansed and doomed to roam the edges of firths and brine,
and to wail as a mournful widow amidst the bustling gales.
The tale speaks of a rather baleful brew brought and drunk,
by the fairest maiden as she became a wraith lost in wuldor.
And for a hundred years her shrill wails agrised the thorps,
as clansmen were found hardened as stone amongst the dales.
The shrewd warlock had sithence rixled the Saxons, Jutes,
Angles and Frisians, and the clans then sought their freedom.
Amongst the athelings that soon then bowed before his wald,
came forth a young fearless heleth weaned by the clans.
Hence he came to end the gryre of the loathed warlock,
and free at last the once lovely maiden from her thraldom.
He was born the son of a freeman but yet weaned by a wizard,
amongst the skill and craft of the Gods and their mighty hands.
It was said that he came from beyond the far brine and dales,
and was born with the wisdom of Tiw and the brawn of Thunor.
One day as he rode yond the slade of tors he raught the dales,
within the ease of the moorland there he found a nearby firth.
And as his horse began to drink from the bluish waters ahead,
he felt he stood amidst the mighty wight who lurked before.
Quickly he saw that his beloved horse suddenly became stone,
and he grabbed his sword as he heard the wails beyond the warth.
Slowly from within the waters came the eerie guise of a wraith,
as she stared into the eyes of the heleth who stood there in awe.
The once sparkling bluish waters of the brine were wried in blood,
with her shadeless body as she flew into the wind that followed her.
Thenceforth she stopped as the hiel stood beguiled it seemed,
as she dwealde him oth his strength waned there amongst the haw.
But yet the galdor in his mene that was around his neck thwarted,
her furtherance even more as she began to then shriek upon the wer.
And the brave heleth with the galdor of his mene blinded the wraith,
as she became herself hardened stone that bore the seeming of fright.
The galdor of the mighty mene ended the hundred year old curse,
as the once ugsome wraith had then become a lovely woman afresh.
She spoke of the harrowing derf that was brought upon her ere,
by a hean warlock who she was to wed after upon a gloomy night.
On his white steed anew he rode onto the kingdom of the warlock,
with the galdor of his mene and sword he slew the wight too brash.
The once beloved maiden became then the queen of the Saxons,
as she rixled the Saxons with her swain who became the new king.
The tale of the brew of the warlock iwis was told to the younglings,
who durst forsooth to roam beyond the howling waters of the brine.
And the Saxons were to hery the mene of the high-heart hiel forever,
as the seidhr of the Gods was kept within the galdor of a token ring.
Therefore the est of the God Woden was found in the mead drunk,
within the horns of the elders raised and with their teeming wine.
(2013)
