Wind of cloudscape and seaspray Scours, roars, glides and soars between the evening hills. Kissing the fan of falling water, Rattling the rusted shells of leaves on limestone, Hissing in a tide of trees And lifting the magic bird.
The stone coloured camouflaged curlew - Curving beak and curving song - Swings like a dark lantern on the unseen slopes of sky And pours its liquid flight Down to the nest of night.
Its is only when I am afar and alone My three loves, That I see you clearly. Glittering, Poured like wine over silver, You are my roses and my rain.
Hard on the ice-bound edge of the year Or drowsy in folds of a summer meadow, I sleep with your dreams running sweet through my song And know you, In truth, As the only gold.
I am always in awe of your matchless light, But ever I aim where my strength will not follow, So I am Icarus and you are the sun And I die for your joy and am glad in my sorrow.
A November Kind of Day
This is the hour when the weariness comes And the pen is falling from my fingers, When cobbles shine with rain and afternoon light, And the smoky smells of autumn linger, And I think about you and I miss you still. I wish you could hear my song but you never will. Its a November kind of day.
This is the hour when a telephone rings But no-one’s ever there to answer. This is the time when all the fog fills the sky And hides the heaven’s silver dancers. And I turn your memory over in my hand. The way I feel today I know you’d understand. Its a November kind of day.
This is the time when night comes hungry and cold Devouring dreams with deadly fingers. This is the time just like the time you left my life. I thank God the memory still lingers. On days like this I feel so sad I cannot say. I miss the years we lost because you passed away. Its a November kind of day today.
The Wishing Seat
Whenever I’m here I’m never alone, There’s always you and me. Whenever I’m here I feel at home On the old tree’s bones Where the sunshine’s warm And the wind sighs and sings and moans Like a ship on the southern seas.
Whenever I’m here its a lovely day Under winter or summer skies And in times to come when you’re far away I’ll be leaning back on the bark of grey And feeling inside the warm sun’s rays And looking out of your eyes.
Whenever I’m here and the touch of gold Is frosting the winter breeze I will always find your hands to hold For wherever we are we are touching souls Forever For in my wishes are folded Your words by the wishing tree.