"eira" poems
There used to be 7 sisters
They love to dance and sing
There were close, even as kids
They would play and swing
Their names were many
But let's start with the first
Phaedra, the sister of strength
She was never easy to coerce
Then there was the second
Luna, sister of dance
Every night by the fire
The others saw her prance
This girl was just as great
Estella, sister of song
When she sung
Everyone sang along
Now with the 4th
Ilta, sister of art
People would see her work
And feel it deep in their heart
The 5th is the next
Ayla, sister of story
Full of joy and pain
Always end in glory
6 was always around
Diana, sister of care
If someone was sick
She'd be there
But the last one is hard
For both you and me
Eira, girl of nothing
Yeah, the others are surprised too
She tried to move
But would fall
She tried to sing
But it always hit a wall
Eira tried to be like the others
But she felt small and shy
So while the others were asleep
She hid in the sky
The 6 sisters woke up
And looked and tried
But after years of searching
They began to cry
But little do they know
Eira was great
She was watching the others
Changing the star's fate
Eira isn't mad
But sad and hurt
Maybe one day
She'll leave her yurt
And dance with her sisters
Like she was born to do
Because they love each other
All the way, through and through
Aug 10, 2025
Aug 10, 2025 at 8:50 AM UTC
*ᚷᛖᚱᛗᚨᚾᛁᚨ (germania): hence antidote of Dubai, ******* and shopping and the thirst of Afghanistan's secular powers in the song of ᛈᚨᛋᚺᛏᚢᚾ (pashtun); ᛖᛁᚱᚨᛗᚨᚱ (eira - merciful, mar - day).*
i've been asked to write poetry in my
spare time, in the meantime to
signature bricks: to feel ennobled
in art as in performance of laying brick;
what a stagnation, to feel both
shoulders of soul strained and shoulders
of body bloomed to a fulfilling summer
sweated over... for nothing more
than glass flutes of champagne raised.
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 8:58 PM UTC