The Isle of Gods

The passengers from the ‘Bold Dundee’

Were sick as they crawled ashore,

Tossed about in an angry sea

By the God that they knew as Thor.

He’d beat his hammer along their hull,

He’d roared as the thunder clapped,

And ripped the sails from the forward stays

As the sheets and the masts collapsed.

 

The tide had hidden the rocks from view,

A mist had obscured the shore,

The captain thought he was sailing free

As he’d always done before.

But the ocean swell in its mystery

Hid atolls of murk and myth,

That never appeared on a sailor’s chart

Where the Gods of old still lived.

 

The ship had shuddered and holed the bow,

Rode up, and sank at the stern,

The swell burst over the after deck

Drowning the crew in turn.

The passengers on the steerage deck

Were swept clean over the side,

Onto the rocks of a thousand wrecks,

But only a few survived.

 

By dawn that few had struggled ashore,

But the rest of them were dead,

Were floating out on the turn of tide

To rest on the deep seabed,

But Robert Young and his wife Jeanine

Were cast right up on the land,

And so was Emily Wintergreen

And the lad called Adam Shand.

 

They woke to an alien sunrise,

In a strange, pale purple mist,

And a sound came down from the mountainside

From a thousand years of myth.

A pale white horse bore a surly man

Who was ten feet tall to his head,

And roared, ‘Now bow before Woden, or

By Odin, you will be dead!’

 

Then striding noisily through the trees

That grew right down to the shore,

Came a giant man, a hammer in hand

Who roared, ‘You can call me Thor!

What brings you here to our hideaway,

To disturb our God’s redoubt?

We left you, hundreds of years away,

Yet now, you seek us out.’

 

Each one of them bowed, and touched the sand,

‘We don’t know why we’re here.

We didn’t plan it,’ said Adam Shand,

‘It wasn’t our idea.’

‘You turned away from us,’ Woden roared,

‘Sought other gods to please,

Once you were praying to us for help,

Would beg of us, on your knees.’

 

‘I swear we’ve never forgotten you,

You’re with us, all of our days,

For Woden, you are our Wednesday now,

And that is eternal praise.

While Thor is our every Thursday,

Every week that he comes around,

And Tiw, well he’s become Tuesday

So you’re lost, but you are found.’

 

The Gods stood back, and then conferred,

‘We’re going to let you go,

But only because you honour us

With your calendar, if that’s so.’

A longboat, free from the wreck came in

And the four of them climbed aboard,

Then waved goodbye to the Isle of Gods,

But at sea, they thanked the Lord!

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Marie]

This is amusing and thought provoking. We do honour the old gods, with not only Wednesday and THursday byt with Frieda's day. But Saturn was one of the Roman gods. THis is why the Wuakers chose to call the days "First Day", "Second Day," etc, so as not to mention these pagan gods.
I don't think anybody cared then. I know nobody cares now.

[TL Boehm]

a fascinating bit of lore here and a fine story. I am landlocked in the high desert - but my DNA is Viking so this calls to me as I read it.

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

A most inspiring piece that gages even the most seasoned of readers, like me! well done, good read.

[emmajoy]

' They woke to an alien sunrise, - In a strange, pale purple mist, - And a sound came down from the mountainside - From a thousand years of myth.'

Wonderful, truly wonderful, as ever! Your skill with metre really is one of if not the best, in the Cafe, David. And here you are with yet another story with moral and meaning! 'So appreciate the way you've smoothly traversed various scenes - characters, sea, weather, myth et al.

[R Smith]

another tale from your creative mind, love the mention of the Gods and the reference to their days, it made a shipwreck move from disaster to mythology a remarkable tale, thank you :)

[Woody]

a great entertaining read and a funny last line.
the rhyme is spot on and almost as good as mine.

there! I chose to review in verse.

[MomzillaNC]

Only you could weave such a wonderful, mythic tale! This story, though completely unlike his work, put me in mind of Douglas Adams.