Nigh the hearth, uxoriuos, I stand
Feeling heat redouble, by Her hand
Night fires burn, this Hibernal Esbat
Her strength at it`s zenith, empery sat
In dalliance, I cast into revery
Away from glib doyen hypocrisy
On Her firewheel, our love rekindles
Her loathe of Olympians, ne`er to dwindle
She sees my horns, doth She hest?
To foresake Her vow, for my love to test
On Esquine Fire, in cogent tone
I oblate myself, as Queen Bee`s drone
Hestia my love, our penchant for peace
We accursed, for Ares war won`t cease
In thy tresses of russet, sweet temptation
My heart burns, in conflagration
Dear Hestia, hearken me in thy bourne
When colloquial utterances leave me torn
I feel thy presence, when hearth fires reel
A remembrancer, Flame of The Firewheel
I love this poem, I adore how it is written in the old way.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The true Gods are recognised at last! and a great poem to boot