Poems, music & musings from author & singer Stacie Eirich.
A Star & A Song for Christmas
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The Christmas Star ⭐
Hands outstretched to crisp, radiant sun,
Her laughter, boisterous, her smile genuine, bright,
A season's joy sprung pine-fresh with frost anew, just begun,
Giggling, playing, dreaming, she stretches in December's cool beams of light.
Hope rises like foam in clouds of ice-blue,
She sings of angels, of gifts, of wonder and love,
Her song ascending with leaps, bounding toward heaven, fast and true,
In jubilant celebration, blithesome awe, hushed anticipation of the star from above.
With a brilliance unmatched it shines in Winter's cold,
Its warmth bringing bliss to souls ravaged and weary,
Rushing into their hearts, its golden waves painting a path so bold, Rejoicing together, resilient, through times dark and dreary.
She closes her eyes and sways, enveloped in shimmering light,
The Christmas Star proclaiming Peace through the still, silent night.
Copyright Stacie Eirich, December 05 2021
✨
I hope you enjoyed this Christmas poem, which I originally wrote & posted in December 2019. If you'd like to read a holiday poem I wrote for kids, visit this link at Storyberries:
🎄🎵 On December 22nd, The Choir of the Earth will present our concert performance of 'Christmas with Rutter,' a selection of seven Christmas carols & songs composed by John Rutter. This online concert is free to all (with donations welcome). Here's the link:
🌟🎵'O Magnum Mysterium,' the latest offering from The Stay at Home Choir, is set to premiere before Christmas Day, though mum's the word on the exact date its performance will be available. As soon as it is, I'll shout it out here, as it will undoubtedly be a gorgeous, inspirational Christmas listen.
Thank you for visiting my blog, and for your support of my creative endeavors this year. I wish you & your family a happy, healthy holiday full of joy with the ones you love.
The White Lady of Kinsale by Stacie Eirich Silent and sorrowful, she haunts the soldiers of Charles Fort at their posts, floating above its ramparts, a bride in an ivory wedding dress, willowy and pale. Lithe and mournful, she strikes fear and sadness into their hearts, raven hair and ebony eyes, an eerie shadow spied on moonlit nights. Melancholy and doleful, she weeps in wretched quietude, above tumultuous Irish seas, peering over the rocky cliffs of Kinsale. Desolate and woeful, she dwells within its ruins for centuries - still, forever young, a frail specter eternally grieving her lost love. 💔 *This poem was inspired by the word "Haunted" and is based on the famous 17th century legend of the White Lady of Kinsale, Ireland. She was a young bride who committed suicide on her wedding night after finding her husband dead (at the hand of her father), jumping off the ramparts of Charles Fort in County Cork. Her ghostly spirit, dr...
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