How the blog works

The poems on this blog are mostly written on the basis of my historical reading and are intended to be both educational and entertaining.
Recently I have also begun posting some of my work with Anglo-Saxon charms. This work is somewhat speculative and is conducted as an amateur researcher and keen Pagan historian.

Please feel free to use anything on this site as a resource if you think that it may be relevant to your needs.

Monday 16 July 2012

Here be Woden


Here be Woden

Introduction
There are many places in the landscape named after Woden. My research materials here are so extensive that I could have written many more verses. As it is I decided to stop writing at 13. The final verse is borrowed from Beowulf. It was by coincidence that the poem was finished on Friday the thirteenth.


Here be Woden

Woden magic lord, leader of Wild Hunt,
Our great god of war, make other swords blunt.
Thee collected souls, and led them away,
Fallen in battle, upon their last Day.

Lead to Valhalla, our brave drychten thane,
Thine soul to collect, after thee be slain.
Thee became Devil, when they styled thee Grim,
Evil Grim Reaper, protect us from him!

The new religion, had put thee to shame,
If death came to thee, then he was to blame.
As grima was ghost, they sort to defame,
But Grimr was Woden, by another name.

Woden's Wednesbury, town in Staffordshire,
Fortification, wall of shield and spear.
Shaped battlement stones, garden site to search,
Site of his temple, now site to a church.

Doomsday Wednesfield, ‘’Woden's open land,
In Staffordshire town, Danes made their last stand.
Falling in battle, Grimr led them away,
Alfred's son Edward, his victory day.

Derbyshire Wensley, Woden's sacred grove,
Silently guarding, a lead mining trove.
Domesday Wodnesleie, perched on top of dale,
Wensleydale cheese, to thee we drink hail.

Wansdyke Somerset, yon Saxons about,
Stretching to Wiltshire, to keep them without.
Earth work ditch and bank, did not heathens tame,
As Woden's Dic is, a West Saxon name.

Wansdyke Woddes geat, a gap in the line,
Wiltshire Woden's gate, was there by design.
As to invasion, they needed no sign,
Saxons then named it, after the Devine.

Wodnes denu lost, in West Overton,
Woden's vale Wiltshire, hast barrows long.
With six rings of wood, two circles of stone,
Wansdyke Roman road, didst king Arthur roam?

Woodnesborough Kent , Domesday Wodens Hill,
Sacred high altar, did worship fulfil.
Houses where fir trees, didst formally stand,
Wodnes Beorg was part, of our sacred Land.

Woden's barrow saw, slaughter for riches,
Two Saxon battles, in hill fort ditches.
Caewlin of Wessex, could not kingdom save,
Wodnes Beorg Wiltshire, became Adam's Grave.

Various places, didst Woden name,
Fields hills and valleys, sacred to the Dane.
Some sites and spaces, have altered their name,
But Woden's spirit, sits in groves the same.

You have travelled here, my friend Woden,
For were fythum thu   wine min Woden.
To favour us with help, and to fight for us,
Ond for ar stafum   usic sohtest.

Copyright Andrew Rea Friday 13th July 2012

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