Guests in the long hall, ancient,

now a home with two floors,

modernised, previously a farmhouse,

Nordic.

I was with my mother,

so glad to see her

it had been a wee while.

We were guests of the gods

disguised in human form.

Our host was head of the family

blonde, handsome.

We all sat squeezed

together on a large sofa.

My mother in the middle

next to me,

the blonde god to my right

telling us Nordic myths

in their original language.

Excited, I was able to pick out

words I recognised in English,

the vestiges of Viking Norse.

The saga was a long one,

we were nodding off.

Time to go to our rooms.

Helping my mother

along the narrow corridor

frail, unsteady

she lent against her stick.

I broke a glass

in the kitchen

fetching water.

The blonde god

came to help,

whispering in my ear that

he would wait

until dawn.

My mother was sat

on the top stair

also waiting patiently.

We embraced in the longest hug;

it was what I needed,

maternal love.

I felt so at home here,

a gift this summer solstice

from the gods

of the great hall.

SCM 2018

Summer solstice, June