Swansong Poem by Patrick William Kavanagh

Many lives ago and far away, but still I can't forget that fateful day.
Stark white dress against the dark and ragged fjords, below a sky of silver grey.
Icy rain that stung my cheeks, the howling wind that cut me like a knife,
The memory returns from life to life, the final moments of a Chieftains wife.

I can see it clearly, though I'm looking back a thousand years.
And still, I hear the raucous call of seagulls mocking at my tears.
The aching in my heart as fresh today as it was then,
That awful, bloody, day I saw the death of my dear Sven.

Flaxen hair and roguish eyes, - as slim as any girl, and skin so fair.
From the moment we first met, I longed to feel your slender fingers running through my hair.
Led by passion, blinded by desire I longed to feel your touch.
I never stopped to think my selfishness would cost us both so much

My love, I wish your sword had been as sharp as was your gentle mind.
You would not run away with me, you would not live in shame and leave our kin behind.
Your strength of will could never stand against my husband when he struck you, blind with rage
A single blow had cleaved your shield, it broke my heart to see you die at such a tender age.

No burning ship, arrayed with all our goods to take us to that other shore.
Our names shall be erased as if we never walked this earth, and we shall be no more.
No rites of passage as they cast your broken body out into the stormy sea.
But I will follow you, my love, and I will search for you into eternity.

Barnetby Le Wold

03/07/2013