“Macedonian Woman,” Kimon Loghi, WikiArt.

By roaring night fire, Norse warriors spoke
In turn, assembled althing, place of father’s
Fathers, deeds held account, crone Halfrida
Found dead, body blue frozen, hands bone
Necklace clutching, her soul rising from
Smoky cave to pagan afterlife, realms far
Hidden from daylight living eyes. “Who
Will follow Halfrida’s footsteps?” By elder
Decree, five names forth-brought, dozen
Eyes hard-cutting to Norse daughters and
me, Brynja. Halfrida’s charms, animal
Bones poured before Estrid, her widowed
Mother close-standing, frothy drink gulp
Given, crone’s linen mantle placed upon
Estrid’s shoulders. “What see you child?”

On blood-truthing stone, bones Estrid’s face
Gleamed, as gifts for cold-night play, fair
Voice she stated, “Papa to waves shipwrecked
Ungreeted, grief of hard sea sorrows, death
Blackness I perceive, by sword-oath his name,
Froden, I do recognize.” By Hlfrida’s charms,
Poor Estrid’s inner eye saw not beyond briny
Depths. Yet, in crone-finding desperation,
Handful elders agreed, Estrid deemed new
Halfrida, with that satisfied. Earth tremors
Beneath our feet, truth stone young Estrid
Rejected, sea-witch never be. All eyes fixed
Upon me, Brynja, next thrusted crone’s fur
Mantle, foul-tasting sips of drink.

“The Veil,” William-Adolphe Bouguereau, 1898, WikiArt.

Simple sea-saga verses I, Brynja, sought to
Say, tales of Norse lost there-under, yet
Childhood hair-braiding years unraveled,
Life-yarn unspinning, faces living-breathing,
Fates revealed, death skulls, hero’s weeping
Widows, dozens dying by sword might. From
Such horrors, I turned away, mantle eyes
Shielding, “Veil of fates I perceive, each of
You revealed, pleasant pastures, torments
Tallied, our ancestors from beginning. For
As I am woman, fleshed-union made, with
mortal kind I cannot dwell. Alas! Brynja has
Become sight-gifted Brynfrida.”

Could this be a new poetic character and series?
Thanks for reading.

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