In Ancient Jötunheimr Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

From ancient times, they first arose,
Before the world, before the throes
Of gods and men, they held their sway,
Nature's wild heart, in disarray.

Not always huge, though some were tall,
Some fair and wise, beyond recall.
Their name speaks hunger, to consume,
The untamed force, dispelling gloom.

From Ymir's flesh, our world was made,
His bones the mountains, blood the glade.
In Jötunheimr, their dwelling place,
Beyond the lands, a wilder space.

Frost giants cold, and fire's bright gleam,
Different kin, in their wild dream.
They are the chaos, we are the plan,
Forever struggling, god and man.

Yet gods and giants, blood they share,
A mingled lineage, beyond compare.
Thor fights them often, strong and bold,
Protecting worlds, stories untold.

Some hold deep knowledge, ages old,
Wisdom sought, more precious than gold.
They are the wildness, fierce and free,
The ancient forces, for all to see.

Though gods and giants often clash,
With lightning bolts and hammer's crash,
They're kin with blood, that flows between,
A tangled past, a complex scene.

For gods bring order, clear and bright,
While giants are the wild, dark night.
Yet love can bloom, though it seems strange,
A giantess, within love's range.

Thor fights them always, strong and bold,
His hammer's might, a story told.
To keep the world from falling down,
From wildness claiming every town.