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Wintersnight
The Yew Trees
Ydalir in silence
Sits coiled amidst yewtrees
Mists wreath winter’s wassail
Wolves’ breath wild limbs enshroud.
Ancient ents ice endure
Extol Ullr’s virtues
Plumpest blood-bowls capture
Cold death, archer’s vengeance.
Bow boughs bear taught drawstrings,
Driving shafts’ flight fancies.
Elfshot brands shame, foretells
Fierce alpha’s eyes glinting.
Flesh wood, skin-bark flaking
Flyting mice (prey-destined
By fear of death). Fainthearts
Find barred great Ydalir.
© Robin Herne
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Ipswich Pagan Council *
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