Grian
Grian strolls through the autumnal eaves,
where sunlight weaves and the winds breeze.
A builder trapped in a dream,
a glimmer of gold in the seam.
In shifting worlds that bear his name,
he piles the fields with blocks and flame.
He bricks the ground and builds the sky
with cunning hands and laughter sly.
However,
he plants a little morning light
in every joke and soaring flight
It's told and widely heard.
Just like the pesky bird!
