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 Wellington, Alabama with his wife, kids, a dog named after an elf, and two tortoises. He has been published in poetry journals and through Jacksonville State University in Jacksonville, AL, where he received his Master's in 2010. His next epic poem, Beowulf: The Midgard Epic, will be published by Stitched Smile Publications, LLC in late 2017.

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