Sleipnir’s Song

A mustering thunder reverberates skyward from

the shadowed gorge, frozen stone giving vibration song,

electrifying this atmosphere with frosted

anticipation, capturing these oscillations,

heralding the fiery mares trailing ice colts

at their tails, this flowing multi-coloured mob

heads held aloft, proud tangled manes so wild.

Gracefully this gliding wave, a lava flow of blood

and hide, goes streaming down into the river

without hesitation: fords hooves striking the

river rocks sending up a silver cascade,

sunlight catching on the spray, their rainbow arch forms.

Blowing hard their breath a milky vapour cloud,

onwards they fly up the mountain side, steam rising

from taut muscles sinew straining on every stride,

their hearts cast in volcanic fire, legs forged in

glacial freeze, the fearless survivors are passing by.


(Dedicated to Elska)


Sweet Release

Feelings caught in stifled space
held within the muggy monotony
moving in treacle motion
rotation, always forwards.

Gazing heavenwards, scanning
brittle patience snapping
seeking the change
bringing the reprieve.

Sailing in, riding high
suppressed heat rising
meeting sky iced thoughts
bubbling formation begins.

First a subtle stirring breeze
parched yearning increasing
slowly the cool spirals
kiss sun burnt stems.

Heat pulsating from core
each grain, molecule, heartbeat
begging to consume, feel
cool fingers trailing through.

With the first touch it starts
electric sparks as droplets fall
each hit making dust dance
entranced the song is formed.

Lost in abandonment
sweet release calls
washing away tensions
cleansed, almost complete.

Waiting is finally over
tumultuous vibrations tear
at seams striking home
burnish stroke hits stone.