Dwarves of Yore

I welcome you  to Nidavellir, also known as Myrkheim or Svartalfheim!

Hammers in the mountain echo the song
Dwarves of yore pass on tradition’s duty
Baritone and bass conform in the throng
Echoes down the hall, the sound of beauty
Ancient days long gone appear in the mind
Battles fought and won and fought again there
Swords and axes, hammers and shields all bind
Bloodshed splatters hills and rocks and beard hair
Ale poured into mugs sloshes as they lift
Cheers erupt as war ends and peace ensues
Laughter in the open air is a gift
Children all chase the gauntlet that renews
Dwarves of yore within the mountain’s frays
Singing songs of glorious olden days

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Author: JamesMatthewByers

James Matthew Byers resides in Odenville, Alabama. He has been published in poetry journals and through Jacksonville State University in Jacksonville, AL, where he received his Master's in 2010. His epic poem, Beowulf: The Midgard Epic, is out from by Stitched Smile Publications, LLC. Mr. Byers is published in numerous magazines, anthologies, and eZines. He has also won numerous poetry contests for the Alabama State Poetry Society.

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