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For Freyr           Poetic form: Villanelle

Make whole my heart that you I might know,
And in the glory of our kinbond myself find
As fertile as the fields which to your glory grow.

Life is long, and wisdom comes too slow
Often we're but left with its dregs and rinds
Make whole my heart that you I might know.

If wisdom is the answer, you are my goal
Lord of all that's green and supple shining
As fertile as the fields which to your glory grow.

All that lives, lives bright before you to bow
God of my heart, my loins, for whom I yearning pine
Make whole my heart that you I might know.

Words alone my troth and oath cannot show
Or that my life I've gloriously come lately to find
As fertile as the fields which to your glory grow.

In Vanaheim, in fair Alfheim your praises glow
Like stars scattered soft through shades of night
Make whole my heart that you I might know,
As fertile as the fields which to your glory grow.

© Boar's Heart, 17 May 2003

 

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