Beyla
by Seawalker
Her dress the color of the rising Sun
And floating round her round and
Buxom body, the dairymaid swings
The pail from her hand, the milk
Quick from the teat, rattles and splashes,
The gift of each spotted cow. She sings
Like a laughing gnomelike pumpkin
And the swarm comes, one by one.
They dip and kiss her sunrise hair
And lay their nectar on the elf-woman’s
Tongue, in trade for her singing.
She whispers to each of them, scolds,
Encourages, asks of sisters and aunts
And the poor doomed brothers, asks
Of babies plump and pampered
In the tiny rounded rooms. Make sweetness,
Little sisters, make sweetness for our master
Who must spread joy and harmony over
Nine great worlds. Mead for his table,
Gold for his bread, he gives so much
And deserves all we can give him. Fly home,
Little sisters, and brew for a hundred days.
Her whisper carries through the flowers
That nod in the wind, the blossoms on
The crabapple tree that bloomed when
He was born, the gorse-weed and the heather.
She will have his table set with the best,
And her husband’s best bread too. None shall see
Meagerness in the Golden Lord’s halls,
Wherever those halls may lie. To Alfheim,
To green Vanaheim, to high blue Asgard, there are
Everywhere the frantic, buzzing hives,
Yielding to the charms of elven wives,
The joyous gift of a thousand tiny lives.
Artwork by Thorskegga Thorn. She writes, "Beyla is one of the two servants of Frey ... Thorshof members regard Beyla as the bee goddess, with influence over sweetness (the culinary variety), mead, and wisdom."