The monastery was easy to subdue, the Norse warriors left nothing useful and those who attempted to escape were cut down. A few terrified prisoners, mostly young men and women, were spared. This was the start of the Irish invasion that gave rise eventually to a Celtic nation.
Over the next two decades, the Vikings ventured further inland, and small settlements sprang up along their path. Thora was now middle-aged an old woman by the standards of the day.
It could be said that Thora had grown complacent with her surroundings. The local inhabitants always had a healthy respect for the wetlands, she did not. One stormy day while out hunting fowl she found herself trapped in the bog. Relentlessly the peat closed around her. Thora died without a sword in hand; her death was not noble or worthy. With dying breath she cursed the old gods. Thora's burial ground is unmarked and was never found or perhaps it is better to say it has not been found yet.
Windswept peat fields are always reluctant to give up their secrets however, when the time is right they will relinquish their prisoners.
The story continues: Invasion Part-Three
Chal pichlay kamray vich,
Karye othay Tich Krich,,
Thora bahar thora vich..
Note.I Love You 2 2 2 2..
Gaand ka dalya gaand ka dalya
Meri gaand ka dalya bana
Thora metha thora pani mila
Gaand ka dalya gaand ka dalya
Meri gaand ka dalya bana...
Ananas ka juice nikalo
Thora bahar thora dalo
Tuitty fruitty flavour vala
Sundar jaisay dodh obala
Neem garam kosa kosa
High value cocktail mimosa..
Nikal k dil ko sine se, rakh du Teri kadmo me,
Dar h k tu ise kahi kuchal na de,
Khwahise mohabbat to tere dil me b h,
Dar h k tu ise kahi badal na de.
Majboor h mera dil apni aadto se,
Tujhe dekh har baar fishalta h,
Tu dur rah meri nazro se,
zra iss dil ko to sambhalne de.
Ishqe izaazat dil ko hamne naa di,
ye to teri adaaon ka maara h,
Tere pyar me mere bahke kadam,
Aur mera dil bechara h,
Sambhal leta iss dil ko,
phr socha thora tere pyar me ise jalne de.
Nazro ne dekha aur ho gai mujhse pyar ki khata,
Zra in nazro ko inke khata ki sza to Milne de.
Dil ka kya kasoor tha jb tumse nazre mili,
Dil toota kai baar, jb szaae mohabbat mili,
Rok leta dil ko apne,
phr socha zraa mohabbat me iss dil ko pighalne de.
Nikal k dil ko sine se, rakh du Teri kadmo me,
Dar h k tu ise kahi kuchal na de.
Thor No More
It’s understood that Thor is another Norse story
With a masculine muscular man and warrior
A mythical character, comic book figure
Son of Odin, with his hammer, as their leader
Not much more
But wait a moment…
Isn't Thor a man as stated?
Modern times calls for a grander change and plan
To blur the lines of male and female
Thor is now a woman warrior
“Thor Girl – called Tarine- super-heroine”
(Heroin, a drug, sounds about right for this)
Marvel, less than marvelous in pretending
Invented this gender bending tool
Wanting to serve some homophobic sex score
Shouldn't it be Thor-ina or Thor-ette or Thora?
Perhaps Thor should be a ballerina
Oh Thora how we adore ya!
Hammer in hand standing grand
Breast spread proud across the clouds
An open mind is what they scream and plead
Reality tells us differently
An open mind, like a lid, opened on a garbage bin
Let’s in everything
A discerning mind is what makes sense
The rest is nonsense
Sieve out the rest
As for Thor
I think of this no more
It’s just a story
I hide in Grandma Thora's room.
A velvet and wood reserve,
forbidden to children.
Grandma's heavy, hunting feet
thunder over hardwood floors toward me.
Curled up tight- like a snake.,
praying my thumping chest doesn't climb
over her huge scolding voice,
and betray my hiding place.
Grandma Thora is in cahoots with God-
She is as scary as His commanding bible.
The book, that I didn't ask for, is my birthday gift.
I'm ashamed of my disappointment
that stepped into me when
I tore off the wrapping paper
and found only God's word.
King James in leather is not what I want.
I carve into the skin-thin title page
with a sharp tipped pen,
“Damn you! Go to Hell!”
God, I'm dead now for sure.