{“Joy and Fate”}
St. Krispin’s sturdy hands lift up
bow of bark above
tuft of wave
and wind embrace impondered slack to sate a bold & woeful fate
shorning mast and plank
plunging men giddy
of mead
who tint the hue of blue
of sea
with ghostlike
ghastly blood unseen.
And empty recompense
the martyr’s mighty
prayer so meant
to still the ambient deep of death
As heaving splashing laughing ship moves from crest to
amaking sloppy bangs for joy
of grinning men who
at agon
smirk aloud while weeping
tears of joy confound
the norns of thorsome sky
where wyn ond wyrd
lash binding ties.

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