The hallowed land of Lincoln was my home,
My father’s house of mighty logs was built
With watchful eye the acres I did roam
Preventing blameless blood from being spilt.
Each day as I would tread the twisting trails,
I sent a dozen songs out on the breeze-
My merry music made the wicked quail
And charmed the very squirrels from their trees.
From forest to great lake ambition spurred,
And finally, a kingdom by the sea.
My wit, my melodies, and winsome words,
Shall everlasting glory guarantee.
Here in the land of saints and gilded men
I raise my voice and bravely wield my pen.
Written for a friend whose class is studying Beowulf. The students have been tasked with writing heroic, formal boasts of at least ten verse lines containing two kennings and three examples of alliteration. I didn’t get to read Beowulf in senior English, so I relished the opportunity to play along!