From the Thanes and Danes Point of Veiw

Well...here's my poem. :)


Mighty Beowulf readied for his battle with the malevolent mother of Grendel.
He donned his thick and regal chainmail, enviable by all of the devoted warriors.
With pride he placed his beaten-gold helmet upon his worthy and noble head.
Despite his brute strength, Beowulf wielded a sword,
An unanticipated and unexpected loan from the unruly Unferth.
Resolutely, Beowulf stood poised at the edge of the mire.
All present held their breath and prayed for his safe return.
Then, the gallant hero jumped into the monster-infested goop.
A lone voice sounded in the silent and suspenseful air.
“Alas, what a tragic and sad pity. He was a brave soul, indeed.”

~Hannah