A Better Ending

Olaf the fisher, from his upturned boat
Did spy upon that headland high
A fury of a woman, taunting and bewailing
Her arms outstretched, flailing
Urging the stormed tossed sea
Boiling and pounding ever landwards
This tempest thought to end her days
Reciting lamentations upon the dead
But Olaf the fisher was not yet dead
And wanted naught but a chance to
Wring her selfish scrawny neck
He called upon his gods
Who were always near
At once there came an almighty roar
Followed by some terrific slashing
And eyes within an eye looked on
As Thors hammer began to swing
Towards that headland high
Too soon its progress halted
By Saga’s sharpened quill
And Forseti’s scales for law and justice
But whilst these three dithered
Loki, that wily mischief maker
Took the shape of a gigantic salmon
And leaping up from the sea, tail flipped
A book into the wailing woman’s mouth
Startled, she could only listen as
Salmon Loki quickly spoke
"Word Wytch, take this gift
Known by the name
Thesauros
It had its birth in Grecianlands
Within it you will find worlds of words
All manner of beginnings and ends
Borrowed from their great library
Just hours before it burned ...

Use it well in the weaving of enchantments"

A collective groan came from the sky
And three gods agreed, Olaf the fisher
Should have been allowed to
Ring her selfish scrawny neck.

(Brewed and offered up to the Muse at The Tenth Daughter Of Memory here )