A poem
Eris the Fairest Heiress in Paris
Her apples are golden and all that behold them yearn and desire them so.
The party was hearty but Eris was tardy, her invitation had failed to show.
Her chaotic theory made the gods leery of her presence disrupting the hall.
She felt quite spurned and silently yearned to join the opulent ball.
She then hatched a plot to repay the lot with a gift to the prettiest one.
Everyone claimed they deserved the famed “prize that was second to none”.
Soon came a scuffle, a real kerfuffle, that quickly ended the night.
Except for Eris, all were embarrassed, to brawl over something so trite.
She reigns supreme for even unseen her machinations can not be halted.
The gods learned a lesson, do not be messin’, with the goddess of chaos exalted.
If you are confused or slightly bemused, there is a good chance she is around.
When there’s delusion, mayhem, and confusion, Eris can always be found.
Wesley E. Warren
Hail Eris
6/11/2021
