Spears Poem by Jerome Brooke
Spears
Rating: ★5.0
Spears reach high, women sing,
Hunters turn, and dance.
Blood, warm food, elders smile;
Hunters raise the lance.
Wolves sound chill warning, howls,
Songs of red blood.
Hunters smile, men reach for spears,
Stone, one with wood.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
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4/19/2024 4:12:06 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A well written poem with a definite Anglo-Saxon vibe to it. It reminds me of the Finnsburg Fragment. An easy 10.