You saw with the one eye of Woden Brows of garnet from a world away Precious helm of echoes Channeling your gods Iron dome dragons snarled Head to head then lay Beneath fitful clouds and Verdant sods No clash or clang that day From the smithies Headwinds ruffled river and sward Up from the river, sweat and toil Up they dragged the ship from the water Up to a final resting place then Down in the soil with the Gold and the garnets Down into the acid earth Down you were rendered To a slop in the cleft To nothing more than a stain In the sand Digging may have punctured your dreams Activity on the landscape Careful scraping and dusting exposed A riveting find in the sandscape Shadow ship of a shadow world Where figures were seen among the hoos Bodiless phantoms, men of old Still on guard, holding vigil over Gold and garnets and echo helm Wingspread dragon across its face Under the knoll in the river breeze Line of Wuffa, blood of the Geats Are you trapped in time on the other side Do you linger with your lyre and gold Are you gazing across the fenland rivers Or are you looking down, bretwalda From your version of Valhalla.