The Shield Maiden

My body, sundered, lay 'neath my shield,
Forgot upon that raven's field
My helm lay cloven, head cut in twain
I lay in mud, 'neath crashing rain
Then came an armoured maid to me
Who laid my body beneath a tree
Her helm was wrought of beaten gold
Her face was fair, yet terrible to behold
A vision bright, in battle's wake
And thus, fair words to me she spake:
"I come to thee as Freya's slave
Those Odin chooses, these must I save
Arise, O' dying warrior, thou
must needs ride with me now
No rest for thee, O' warrior brave,
No peaceful sleep 'neath bowered grave."
She bore me up on her pale gray steed:
"More doth Odin of thee have need."
O'er the rainbow bridge we sped
Unto the halls of the mighty dead
And now Asgard I defend
Until the Wolf Age, and world's end
And praise the shield maid, who on that day
Chose me for honour from among the slain.

© Brandr Od Iverson (aka Chad Iverson)

Image: Konstantín Alexeyevich Vasilyev, Russian painter (1942-1976)

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