Michael Edwards

AS YET UNWRITTEN

 

 

AS YET UNWRITTEN

 

 

The men of many wounds sat round

the crackling fires of flashing light

the harp was played on strings of gold

sweet herbs were strewn beneath their feet.

 

And when they sat as one at feast

and raised their flowing drinking horns

their ears were thirsty for the tales

of fearless deeds of mighty men .

 

Of men who swung their sails to wind

and slew with swords that sung as sweet

as any maiden left behind.

In awe they heard the sagas told

not written down for few could write.