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walking with Wõden

walking with Wõden

weir-witched warlocks
wearily walking ways
where Wõden whisked
weathered wherewithal
wondering -- wistfully why --

wailing waifs wager
wadded walleted wafers
wanting wanton wands
whose waywardness

waives wakeful walls --

where warlike wardens
warn warmed-over witnesses
washing warrior's warships
with wary wargs

wastefully watching wasted
waylaid weakened wanderers
without watchwords
wavering weasel's wealth
welcoming weighty welfare's
wearisome webs
whipping whit's whiteness

weirdest whims --
whole -- whispering whoops
willing wile's wickedest
wordy wishes --
Wõden weeps woefully.


4 February 2011

Editing stage: 


Thank you, Shirley.

Are we here alone?



"When a pickpocket meets a holy man all he sees are his pockets."

Unknown (at least to me)

author comment

My only untoward observation is that a couple of the words only are w-words visually and are pronounced without the wuh sound. Not that this observation would change the world of poetry or of this poem for that matter. Today is Woden's day as well. Good timing.

'Break, break break on thy cold grey stones, O Sea.'

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