From Saffron Walden wends the Panta,
Willow lined, its gentle flow.
On to Bocking wind the waters.
Green and lush the Willows grow.
Then to Coggeshall, Kelvedon, Witham,
Maldon; once past, then the Sea
Where ebb and flood dictate its passage.
Wading waters to Northey.
That island where the Norsemen be.
And from where they threaten Maldon;
Wealthy merchants, Royal mint.
Maldon, silver pence which sing
For Ethelred, the English king.

So, Byrhtnoth, Ealdorman of Essex,
Bid your wife Ælfflæd farewell.
Buckle sword and shoulder shield.
Have roused the warriors of your hearth;
Chosen men who will not yield.
Have sworn to honour Byrhtnoth’s name,
Byrhtnoth’s treasure, Byrhtnoth’s fame.

While you who watch sit back, take in your breath
As Byrhtnoth and his chosen men ride singing to their death.
Reflect, what is it that you see reflected here?
Terrors threatened? Terrors braved?
Maldon threatened? Maldon saved?
Or is there something more that we might glean?
Come, read on with me, and through my words
Might we together view the tragic, glorious scene.

———————-

Rise up you men of Essex,
Come forth with me this day.
There are Vikings to be fighting
And their ships are in the bay.
The harvest it must wait for now,
Take down your bow, and heft your spear. 
Your women, leave them with the plough
For we have foes and they draw near.

And Byrthnoth wants the fighting men
Of Langford, Haybridge, Woodham Walter,
Forming up and locking shields.
To launch their spears and not to falter.
 
And, as you form his chosen men
Will show you how to brace your shield
To make your ******: when high, when low,
To stamp, to push, thus as they yield
 You will not stumble, but will ****
Trygvason’s ravens. And by your cutting down,
Those not dead will turn to run.
And in the darkening water, there will drown.
 
—————
 
The Essex men they loosed their arrows,
Lancing, dancing to the sky,
To turn them, make them deathward plunging
On those Vikings standing by.
This whilst Aelfere, Wulfstan, Maccus;
Grim, named-men and skilled in war,
Placed by their Earl to block the causeway, 
Roared their boasts. Defying Thor.
 
And Olaf tore his beard and howled 
His hatred for the English there. 
‘You will not fight as man to man.
Shield to shield you do not dare.
 So, craven Saxon, if you won’t fight,
Dare by combat, take the field;
Give me Danegeld, compensation,
Ethelred’s silver to me yield.
Then I will take my boats away;
Slake my thirst elsewhere to fight
With men of metal, stalwart warriors
Unafraid of Viking might.’
 
—————
 
Byrthnoth called his men together.
‘Free your horses, give your hands.
We fight for Ethelred and for Essex.
Win or loose, here Byrhtnoth stands.’
Then strode he forth, both proud and grim. 
He raised his shield, he shook his spear. 
He cursed those men across the sea-tide,
Swearing words for them to hear.
‘We give you nothing arrant sea wolf.’
Loud words hurled across the water.
‘Come, with me fight and I will promise
Spears and swords and ****** slaughter.’
 
Eager then the sea-wolves wade.
Across the causeway now they go.
Pushing past those face-down floating
With the ebb-tide, to and thro.
While Byrhtnoth cheers the men of Essex.
Bids his thanes move to their place.
The warrior lord then roars defiance;
‘Come, with these Northmen let’s embrace.’
 
—————
 
The raiders now form by the River.
Carefully, neither crowd nor crush.
This so Woden’s skilful Warcraft
Wefts within their first spear rush.
While men of Essex, jeering, cheering,
Lock their shield-wall, stamp and go.
And those supporting launch spear-volleys;
Manic death theirs soon to know.
 
Now stands forth, bold, a Viking warrior.
Shield held fast and spear point raised;
To **** the Essex champion early,
Win much gold and be thus praised.
His ******, makes but a partial wound,
By Byrhtnoth’s shield is cast asunder. 
Opened thus, he cries to God,
His god of war, his god of thunder.
But Byrhtnoth, always battle-savage,
Laughs and roars his battle cry.
Has pierced the Viking’s neck and breast plate.
Holds him down to watch him die.
 
—————
 
And ravens wheel about the sky,
They croak delight at what they see.
And Essex farms, the fens, the fastness 
Wonder what their fate will be.
 
—————
Then, a spear strikes Byrhtnoth, hardly.
Wulfstans’ child - he pulls it out.
And makes a lunge at the attacker.
Our leader’s down, goes up the shout.
Then snarls another from the melee,
Viking warrior seeking plunder.
Broad sword drawn from ready sheath 
Byrhtnoth slashes, treads him under.
 
Bloodied, frothing, lips a snarl.
Blood-lust crazed, the Earl he stands.
Roars ‘Ethelred, my king, my king.’
Holds up his sword with both his hands.
And as the Essex men he urges
Surge with shield ‘gainst Viking shield,
The Past, the Present and what shall be;
Those Norns, decide who wins this field.
 And bitter in the battle rush,
The men of Essex, fighting there:
Intensive blood-rage, focused ******,
Glory, fame, for those who dare.
 
But Godric sees the blood run freely.
Sees his Earl begin to sway.
He and his brothers love not this battle.
Horses stealing, sneak away.
Offa’s sons, all sworn-men made.
And Godric rides the chieftain’s grey.
Those brothers swear away their honour;
Oath-breaking, for their lives they trade.
 
This, while pagan spear tears Byrhtnoth’s arm;
His sword, it falls from powerless hand.
The Earl, he shakes his grizzled head.
With loss of blood he cannot stand.
So, at the last the war-lord topples.
Crashing down he shakes the Earth.
His war band grimly gather round him.
Each man sworn, all men of worth:
Aesferf, Eadward, Erdric, Wulfmer,
Sworn as kinsmen, guard their chief.
Lock shields against the savage onslaught,
Bitter fighting, bitter grief.
Giving life, but giving dearly;
Keeping slathering wolves at bay.
Bound by oath, they stay with Byrhtnoth.
Even though they’ve lost the way.
 
For seeing Byrhtnoth’s grey nag leaving,
Thinking he, not Godric, rides there.
Leave the battle; Essex farmers;
War-worn, weary, in despair.
 
Berserk now, Eadward leaves his chieftain.
Refusing just to stand at bay.
His leap, it shatters Viking shield wall;
Vengeance, slaughter, take the day.
 Savage, shrewd, tall Wulfmer follows;
Axe blade, shield-rims pulling down.
Throat-wise thrusting,  spear-blade striking,
Blood-drenched Vikings, choking, drown.
 
—————
 
Olaf meanwhile quaffs his mead;
Standing tall midst all the dead.
He laughs then lifts his horn aloft,
‘A toast, and gold for Byrhtnoth’s head.’
At this his frenzied warriors roar.
Slaughter laughs out loud and long.
Proud men clashing shield to shield.
A mighty tale, a mighty song.
And round Byrthnoth’s trampled corpse;
Desperate fighting; good men fall.
Sworn by oath, fight to their end;
Less Godric - foul, dead be they all.
 
—————
 
But Essex farms escape the fire
They who died on Panta’s shore,
Those that Byrthnoth’s death inspired,
Gave their all, could give no more.
And Maldon never knew the sword;
And women welcome home or weep.
Those dead and quiet a mist conceals;
And Byrhtnoth in his grave can sleep.

Deep in green ocean where wind dances with leaves,
An old druid is sitting, lonely and silent.
Deep in a forest where light barely seeps,
He waits for the one who makes his life vibrant.

Deep in the shadows of ancient oaks,
Carrying sack filled with pine cones and seeds.
Deep in the darkness where mist gently floats,
He waits for the one who has all he needs.

Roots are the veins that carry earth's life,
Green stems grow peacefully, berries are sweet.
This is a place that knows no strife,
He sits and waits for her with pergamen sheet.

Words that feel warm like the home that he left,
Words that feel colder than long winter nights.
Some words monger fear worse than death,
Some words could end the most hateful fights.

He sits there patiently, his eyes still cry,
Writing the ballad for woman he loves.
She is his fae, she taught him to fly,
Fly like a gentle flock of pale doves.

Long ago has he left life of clashes,
Just to see once again eyes of that muse.
Ready to sit there till stars turn to ashes,
Without her by his side, life has no use.

Nights were long, lonely, and cold,
Rays of the sun could not reach his soul.
But even in darkness, alone and old,
He sits there and waits for her, fearing no howl.

Days turn to months and months into years.
He saw her look at him just a few times.
Just glance at her beauty is spilling his tears,
Just smile of her lips makes him forget his crimes.

Deep in the halls of intertwined branches,
A fae was dancing on pillows of moss.
Sweet is her voice, bringing new chances,
Mystical power in her eyes gloss.

Rain itself doesn't dare soaking her hair,
Ground itself doesn't dare staining her dress.
Sun itself enjoys the light of her glare,
Gods themselves wish by her to be blessed.

Under the crown of peaceful beech,
She rests after dancing, hidden from sight.
Not knowing what the druid's heart so beseech,
Not knowing he's slowly losing his light.

Amongst the trunks of whispering trees,
Silently waiting, alive just from hope.
Until dust of his bones is carried by breeze,
He reads words of love he long ago wrote.

Perhaps she notices, perhaps she watches,
Perhaps she's listening, hidden in green.
Perhaps she'll come before his years notches
Run out of space and he dies unseen.

Decades then came and went, time knows no friend.
Old druid still sits there, his voice getting weaker.
Losing all hope, he expects just end,
Giving up on being true love's seeker.

Leaves are now rotting beneath his feet.
His eyes see nothing but darkness and pain.
He spent his life waiting for something sweet,
His smile went dim, washed down by salty rain.

Was he a lunatic or was he just wrong?
Did he just waste his life in expectations?
His love still burns for her, ever so strong,
But his heart's in pain that could destroy nations.

Suddenly, beautiful voice sounds in trees,
Calling his name, beseeching his soul.
Not to give up just yet, to be at ease,
Not to fear sadness and hopelessness foul.

Sunbeam of gold lit up desolace dark,
Pouring his life back into his old veins.
Within his eyes again danced a spark,
Spark of hope coming from eternal plains.

Trees themselves whispered her name to the breeze.
Beasts of the forest quietly admired beauty.
Ground itself softened to give her walk peace.
Time itself refused to do its duty.

She walked slowly towards him, such graceful beauty.
Her warmth healed his wounds, soothed his cuts.
Her presence shields him from this world's cruelty.
Stars in her eyes are to happiness maps.

Only to see her erased all his doubts.
To see her walk closer gave him back his power.
And in his soul, after years of endless droughts,
She summoned rain, a life-giving shower.

Her touch was like spark that reignites flames.
Her breath was calm wind that clears out the sky.
Her voice makes him forget of all other names,
When she is so close, he will never die.

In her arms warm were days, warmer were nights.
In her arms struggles did no longer matter.
In her arms his mind flies up to sky heights.
In her arms stone walls of loneliness shatter.

Yet nature calls her back, to dance with grace,
To dance through forest and give world its meaning.
He knew that coming are much darker days,
She's going to leave his side, all that's left: feeling.

He wants her to stay; she makes him feel seen.
He holds her so tightly, not letting go.
He looks in her eyes deeply, she is his queen.
He wants to tell her the truth, to let her know.

He would stay guard all night so she could slumber.
He would give everything that he can offer.
For her to be warm he'd carry red ember.
He would be protector, friend, and a lover.

Gathering strength for these words to be told,
His mind is overwhelmed by adoration.
He needs her to know this deep truth that's so old,
Yet he is defeated by his emotion.

Deep in the forest where night meets the day,
Old druid is sitting, wishing he dared.
Deep in the forest where he met his fae,
Waiting for one who hugged him and cared.

Deep in the shadows where leaves obstruct rain,
Old druid is sitting, lonely and still,
Waiting for fae who healed his soul's pain.
She might not return, but waiting's his will.

Some say this ballad is purely a dream.
Some say the druid is still waiting for fae,
Writing the words just for her to be seen,
Hoping she returns to him every day.

has
two
hearts.

My heart danced every shift
Every hour of our work
This friendship born form a myth
On a timetable-
Ready to be clocked in

I was down further than-
Just being down on your knees
I was six feet deep
This all was when we met

You might've never know
The impact you had on my soul
Life flashing by like a still full
Why is it after all these months

I still regret the way we never talked
I was committed to someone
Who wasn't you, and yet it was nice
A friendship ready to bloom

It felt like you say me
With all the colors and hues
And yet you said, let me unpack
And sit back, with a coffee

Watch this woman love life
And fall back in love with it
Right beside my own heart
That's stopped beating when-
She blocked my number

And maybe you were never mine,  
not even in kindness,  
but for every shift we stayed late  
I healed within the silence,  
while your voice reminded me  
how worth showing up I still was

Even when work would drive me crazy
When you showed up I knew
That life didn't have to sit still
Even when after I left- you,
You never left, me.

If you can’t hold on others secrets with you, better stop listening to them.