Thank God my wife was only dreaming <br />or we both would be up the creek without an oarsman. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />The flaming arrows fly <br />whistling through the night air <br />Shields clash together <br />as Warriors pay tribute <br />to their departing King <br />his giant body still.... <br />his deep thoughts silenced.... <br />by a torrent of undercurrents <br />they sweep him away___ <br />His vessel is one <br />of fresh cut flowers <br />and a cleansing barge of fire <br />A Vikings funeral to be sure <br />His fair maiden lies beside him <br />bound by her devotion <br />to her master and King in life <br />She cries....as her tears dry in the flames <br />The poisons ingested in celebration <br />___a drink of Hen's blood <br />given to her this mournful night <br />which will slowly take her life <br />She will sacrifice all she has to give <br />that her King and she may sail into Norseman Paradise___ <br /> <br />'She has got to quit reading those damn romance novels....' <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />Copyright (c) 2007 Ted Sheridan<br /><br />Ted Sheridan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-norseman-s-funeral-or-my-wife-ate-too-much-chocolate-before-going-to-bed/
