Wednesday’s Tears

He saw angels in the market
Joyous their beauty to behold
He saw angels in the market
And he asked them of their home
They told him of an island dear
That was so far away
He swore that he would travel there
To where the angels play
But fate would offer him no chance
To travel so very far
He had to walk on Peter’s path
And dream of angels in the stars
To lead among the throngs of men
First among the fold

He called an abbot friend of his
And sent him this place
Where angels walk among the hills
The seeds of faith to sow
Augustine and his monks
Found a fertile land
Where the word of God
Found eager hearts
Woden’s herd was sheered
Canterbury’s stones where laid
While the illuminators where in York
Christ the King was bowed before
As a spear shattered the sacred alter
Of Woden Frey and of Thor

Author’s Note: Simply ancient history. I have received a request to explain this poem. At the end of the sixth century a priest walking through a slave market in Rome saw some beautiful blond boys and asked about them. Being told that they were Angles he is said to have stated not Angles but Angels and vowed to take the word of God to the people that the Father had graced with such beauty. That was not to be as he was later elected Pope Gregory. He sent Augustine and some monks to Britain who landed in Kent in 597. Where they established Christianity and laid the foundation of the a little monastery (St Martin’s) at the current location of Canterbury. While he was there Irish monks were in York, on the other side of the island bringing the word of God to the pagans, where a pagan priest cast his spear at the altar of the old gods and turned to this new religion. Wednesday is named for Woden’s day one of those pagan gods.

Copyright © 2020 brian francis


by brian francis

Where once he was a hero
a man above all men
They made a great bronze statue
meant to raise and honor him
a horseman and his waving hat
stood there rearing for all time
reminding us how fate can rule
our lives when honor binds

The dirt that he defended
held his roots deep and firm
the southern threat has ended
and now correctness flows in tide
now those cherished memories
of his response to honor’s call
seem lost to those protesting
as they watch the statue fall

Copyright © 2020 brian francis