The allotments will never be the same.

Fred was digging a new bed when he

Found it,

Uprooting silver collars, bracelets, armlets

Finger rings too along with

Amber beads not unlike flax seeds.

Mutterings of treasure trove sprout darkly

In the other sheds where his

Neighbours want their share but

Greenhouses grow security guards now while

Worst of all

Parsnips and pe...

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Horizons and herring made us Vikings

No estuary beyond our sixteen oars and shallow-drafts.

Silver arm-rings we wore, bound by allegiance,

Chained thralls shared our graves

Ninety miles a day in a fair wind

Sea-sick abaft oak prows and reeling sails.

Monks in towers prayed for stormy seas but

Stiff with salt it was nuns not gold we wanted

After conquest we traded ...

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From the North Sea, wild and grey
the horde bore down on Scarborough Bay.
I overheard one of them say 
"We're following the money."

Like a Viking raiding force
they'd moved their enterprise onshore
to probe beneath the Yorkshire moors
for oil and gas and money.

A mighty fleet of high power cars
overran the Scarborough Spa.
I heard them, wassailing at the bar
thirsty for the money.

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We stare across the open field at each other,
Battle is in the air,
One of us is going to Valhalla today.

We charge across the field with spears,
plunging it into the hearts of our kin,
it is too late to ask questions now.

In the midst of battle, I hear your screams
I am anxious to face you, my brother, my blood.

Two brothers meet, on the field of blood, our eyes are full of hate,
...

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