Wolund the smith-god

Out here in Oxfordshire
The skies are big
Near Uffington Castle
Near Ashbury
A neolithic long barrow
Of sarsen stones
Close to The Ridgeway
In wooded green
Where paths and copses
Set the scene

A son of the great god giant
Working the metal constantly
A smithy held in high repute
An apprentice to the dwarves to boot
The saxon bards I have heard say
Would tell their stories
And walk this way
Near white horse hill
Where beeches stroll
Where light paths swoop
And the place has soul

You can feel the history
Its a lonely spot
Where elves do share
The auric vale of greenery
Beyond where phantoms walk for free
You have to walk
Theres no place to park
And its a bit weird there
After dark

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