Had my fill of Finnish fish pie food
it only put me in the mood
for a Swedish meatball
which really and truly
duly answered the call
followed by a Danish bacon pastry
all in all it was quite tasty
hoping I won't glow in the dark
in Iceland I had fermented shark
and creamy tangy skyr à la mode
it's yoghurt with ice cream in Norse code
but of Greenland's daily delicacy
homemade soup I must reveal
a staple of Inuit cuisine
the main ingredient is seal
and for a Norway repast
(as that bird has flown)
I'll leave it 'til the very last
but for cellulose as grub goes
what good
is Norwegian wood?
May Mjölnir's might strengthen you.
May your thoughts flow from Runic streams.
May your chosen path feel miraculous,
And may the northern winds uplift you,
So that Yggdrasil fills you with kindness!
May Frigg ignite your divine visions!
May Freyja summon fertile dreams.
May Magical Mead pour freely from above,
Letting your courage lead to valorous action!
Walk the forest's path, where unique trees and flora thrive.
Listen to the wildlife 'round the trees.
Meet your inspirational animals,
And live boldly as one who ventures forth with courage,
Allowing the vines and flowers to entice you---
That they may be your good companions.
Fifteen people on a tour
Of Scotland on a bus.
Thirteen strangers, plus the guide
And driver rode with us.
Like a dance, we do-si-doed
And joined or pulled apart,
While learning ‘bout each other;
Group dynamics got to start.
Our leader was the one in charge,
Deciding times and routes,
His local knowledge vast and true;
Of that we had no doubts.
But certain discontentments grew
Against our Scottish guide,
Whose rogue decisions made things worse
And couldn’t stem the tide.
Complaints were made; the plug was pulled,
The mutiny complete,
Our trusty driver leading now
From in the driver’s seat.
The group was jelled - well, more or less,
And all are much less stressed
Since our bounty of discomfort
Laid the awkwardness to rest.
The Nordic Tribe
There is a movement of Scandinavians
going to the South of Europe, they have their church,
cafes and shops selling the type of food sold in
the North. The Spaniards, say, accept and ignore them
because these strange northerners came here for
The sun does not take anyone’s work.
You can call the economic refugees; it is cheaper here
and that also keeps the heating bill low.
The people of the North dislike refugees coming to their
country, a place to live, and they protest loudly.
One day, when the economy in the south is on par with
the Nordic one, who will leave, or seek other shores
where they can live as kings among the lesser
The Northerners are racists by nature, but do follow
the money and its fluctuations, and they can
See the local people where they have temporarily
sought shelter as foreigners.
Though you feel all alone.
Please know that there are people out there sending well wishes to you.
Some people will have lived through your pain, your anguish and fears.
These people will look into your eyes and send you their strength to help combat your tears.
Though you feel all alone how can that be true?
When strangers are gathering the power and strength of their love and sending it to you.
nordic light show
night of auroras
swirling fiery spirals spin
snow buntings call soft
purple green flashes
leap across the artic night ~
silver solitude
celestial outbursts
magnetic sparks pirouette ~
pink shadows on snow
scarlet reds cascade
crazy northern lights unleashed ~
ephemeral mauve
gossamer rainbows
jubilees of cosmic dust ~
nocturnal side show
rhapsodies of lights
aurora leaps star to star ~
dance of the artic
11-17-22
The Nordic Pyramid
Up north, where I was born
there is a mountain in the shape of a pyramid
of course, it is much bigger
dwarfing the Egyptian´ones.
It is snow-capped looks desolate
but every year I have noticed the snow crown
is getting smaller
now it is the size of a French beret.
Soon the snow will disappear and
the mountain will look like a pyramid.
A testament that once the human race lived here,
but they like the Tasmanian tiger
disappeared from the planet.
They will never come back again.
I bought boots for Christmas to tread the icy plains.
I bought toys for Christmas with Santas in my trains.
I lit my home for Christmas with a Cedar bright.
I made cup cakes for Christmas for my love's delight.
I bought Jane a dress for Christmas with ribbons pink.
I bought for my grandma a cozy Christmas mink.
I bought for Jill two amazing Christmas Sparrows.
I bought for Jack a toy quiver full of Arrows.
I bought an Elk for Christmas with nose giving light.
I bought for Christmas, candles for a solemn night.
I made for Christmas a warm and sweet lemonade,
and I sang on Christmas morn, a sweet Serenade.
Rans nets, which bind and trap.
Ensnare and incapacitate all who swim in the oceans of life
I tangle thy golden skeins.
Your pearlescent webs that move in the voids between the 9 dimensions.
Your webs of final fate that float and dance between the worlds.
Ensnaring everybody in the 9 planes and all existences
may your golden Webs ensnare the wrongs
done to me and right them.
NORDIC ECSTASY
You asked me a question, a nostalgic one
Where I was in the seventies
I was in the land of the midnight sun
With the descendants of the Vikings.
Looking at Norwegian rocks, their structure
Along the corrugated coast of the North Sea
I found myself on the lap of pristine nature
As beautiful on earth as it could ever be.
The ice-age glaciers have all melted away
Carving deep valleys for the fjord networks
To enter the lofty land the sea gets waterway
Where on azure clarity the sky disembarks.
Summer sun touches the arctic horizon
Goes up unset at the midnight hour
The sunshine on the night hangs on
Making the body clock go haywire.
The grey sky flushed with the aurora flare
Gleaming winter nights danced on the snow
I could still feel the Nordic ecstasy of the air
Though it touched me such a long time ago.
February 22, 2018.
The Nordic Tribe
There is a great movement of Scandinavians
going to the South of Europe, they have their church,
cafes and shops selling the type of food sold in
the North. The Spaniards, say, accept and ignore them
because these strange northerners came here for
the sun and not take anyone’s work.
You can call the economic refugees, it is cheaper here
and that also keeps the heating bill low.
The people of the North dislike refugees coming to their
country a place to live and they protest loudly.
One day, when the economy in the south is par with
the Nordic one, the will leave, or seek other shores
where they can live as kings among the poor;
the Northerner’s are racists by nature but do follow
the money and its fluctuations and they have the ability to
see the local people where they have temporarily
sought shelter, as foreigners.
Blond Nordic queen whom I would die for; care
not my pulse beats fast ever wanting thee?
Or care desire is more than I can bear
when by chance you at times walk close to me?
Blue eyes that make both knees to shake in hope
that smile from thy angelic face might show.
Perhaps, words may pass; I can’t rightly cope
with silence --- queen set my heart-flame aglow.
Tormenting visage ever burning my
poor hurting soul and captive mind in sleep.
Put name of finis ending my sad cry;
drink I strong poison nevermore to weep?
All seems but useless longing queen’s love nigh;
what better way to make end by last sigh?
The small orioles from Tennessee have
migrated North, their yellow breasts
match the bright daffodils in the grove,
in the meadows, or in the plain's vastness.
It's very late April and the Nordic spring is
in full bloom today; there's little to envy,
although the deep South has more beauty
and warmth than of all New York springs.
Cherry and apple trees show much vibrancy,
eastern bluebirds gather in their branches
and chat among themselves, a language
they only understand; I love the diversity
of species that dwell here in modern age...
without their presence Nature laments.
Over the years the landscape hasn't changed,
the calmness and the lively mood persist;
if this isn't Paradise, which other place is?
I stroll under the scented blossooms that
undulate spreading more delightful wafts...
while butterflies and bees seem captivated.
Wait until sunset paints everything in red,
scarlet roses and lilacs will blend so eloquently,
making it resemble a red sea from inland;
here's where I like to lay down for the eternity.
The ghosts of fallen heros
Oftern visit me in my dreams
Telling me whats approaching
Telling me of there deeds
They encourage me to fight on
Making sure that i win
Their spectral presence surronding me
As i fight every battle on a whim
I dont know what they want of me
I dont know why they care
But each battle they protect me
You can see their mist in the air
These ghosts are Viking warriors
They protect me proud and true
For one day i will join them
In the great hall my mead cup will be filled
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