This won me joint third prize in a poetry competition, on the subject of “love”.
I sat on my sea chest, now brim-full with coins;
My hands were a ruin, so blistered and raw.
A cruel ache blighted my arms, chest and loins;
Accrued from ten torturous days at the oar.
Our ship came, at last, within sight of the coast,
With our families there, begging news of our raid.
Yet before us, the one I had yearned for the most
Waited, willing us onward; a flaxen-haired maid.
There on the quayside she stood, so serene,
And she watched our approach with a goddess’s poise.
Her face surpassed Freya’s, with eyes flawless green,
Her manner the zenith of all earthly joys.
Her locks caught the wind and thus danced like the waves,
Her gaze like an ember, her smile a caress.
All the flowers of spring were as cheerless as graves
When competing in grace with my Nordic princess.
Once our longboat reached harbour a feast was prepared,
But I let the feast be, for a while, anyhow.
I walked with my princess, telling all that I’d dared,
Every day missing touching her cheek and her brow.
Our race may well be fierce, and great tales will be told
Of the riches we win… but I don’t need the glory.
My Nordic princess is my silver and gold
And together, we write a most beautiful story.