Æthelred doth speak of Kamyshin, brave and bold,
With forge aflame, in fervour stoked for battle fierce.
Like Thor, his hammer strikes, where iron meets anvil's hold,
The storm of war, against the Eastern wolf, he'd pierce.
In New Jersey's land, where pride, as Mead, doth flow,
The dwellers scorn to pump the Nectar of their steeds.
Like Skidbladnir's crew, their tasks, they well bestow,
Their custom hailed, in Odin's garden sows its seeds.
Brace thyself, O traveller, seeking Europe's gilded shore,
Delays await thee, as the Norns weave threads of strife.
Like storms at sea, troubles rise, 'fore summer's frothy roar,
Yet amidst the chaos, find the saga of life's fife.
