Poem: Freyja


Faring west over sea
came we back richer
Swollen green waves
run like field furrows rolling
Dull is the sky
over gull-ridden headland
Heavy the rainstorm
that washes our faces
There she stands waiting
to sea ever looking
Auburn her hair plaited
long to her waistbelt
Grey her eyes gleaming
and white her teeth showing
Anxious and glad
at her lover’s returning
”Sold you the ship then
for golden coins shining?”
Hear how she mocks
making light of my trading
”Were it for sale then
to you I should sell it”
Laughing she says
”No, to me would you give it!”

(Alan Hodgson)


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