Wednesday, July 6, 2016

For Moira on her 19th Birthday

Written for Moira Jane
on the occasion of her Fourteenth Birthday

Verse 1
In the morning before the dew dries
Her feet lead down the stairs
To comfort the old piano, in her curly, golden hair
Her fingers touch the ivory
Her soul plays on the keys
A thousand miles inland,
A silkie longing for the sea.

She's a muse to the morning
The North, West, East, and South
Red and Yellow, Black and White
Afternoon, evening, dusk
She's a muse to the old
And the young who need her help
Mostly she's just amusing
Even to herself.

Verse 2
On a grassy, rounding racetrack
Her bare legs do run
Her heart two paces forward
Leaping for the sun
From the trees the elves watch her
Remembering that day
Their changeling child left home
Decided to stay away



Her first name means bitterness
But her second means God's Gift
Just like salt, and tears of joy
A minor harmonic shift
Yes, her name it is bitterness
And her second is God's Gift
Her being is cathartic
A major-chord-mood-lift

Verse 3
On the Treaty grounds you'll find her
Laughing with her friends
Who tease her she's a brown girl
Cree or Saulteaux, just like them
In the North she knew Dene
In the South she might learn Sioux
They build a fire at sunset
In a tipi that's brand new


This is a mother's song
A Sugarbaby lullaby
Look at the Little Imp
Flutter as she goes by

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