a ballad
O minstrel, why do you play so sad,
Why so sad, I pray thee?
I pine away for a sweet young maid
A servant to a lady
A servant to a lady
One morning from the road I strayed
And wandered through a woodland fair
Then from within a sunlit glade
I heard a song upon the air
The singer sat beyond the stream
And washed her garments free of grime
Her hair alight with sunrise gleam,
She scrubbed, and sang to keep the time.
I’ve put my little quilt of words to music. Please enjoy!
Read More »a lullaby
Close your eyes and rest, my child
Let this song surround you
Let me weave a quilt of words
Soft and warm around you.
Daylight’s final drop is poured
Drink, to soothe your crying
May it sweeten all your dreams
Pure and satisfying.
Read More »The wind may weep between the trees
The wolf may mourn beneath the skiesDon’t listen to the wind, my child
Don’t listen to the wolf, my child
Hear my song and dream, my child
Soft, and close your eyes.
a song
1
In first of years, in sunlit lands,
Before the gods communed with men,
They fashioned stories with their hands
And knew no whit of word or pen.
Each mother’s child was mute of tongue
However oft they worked or played;
No name was said nor song was sung
Wherever they their homes had made.
2
In first of years, as night would fall,
The children danced in leaf and fir,
But one was only half as tall
As all her older brethren were.
They would not let her venture thus
Into the woods till she was grown
And so in sunset luminous
She stayed behind and danced alone.
a ballad for children
I went walking one day to the market,
With money enough for a treat (to eat).
I had just bought a basket of pastries
When commotion arose in the street.
A man stood out front of the baker’s,
A bright gilded cage by his side (with pride).
I joined the crowd crowding around him
As to everyone gathered he cried:
(Refrain)
The great and glorious gliff!
The rarest and finest of things (with wings) –
The great and glorious gliff!
What luck to her owner she brings!
Come see the gleam of her feathers!
Come hear the bliss of her song!
You won’t find a finer bird in the world,
Though you search it all your life long.
a ballad
The night draws near and your shadow waxes long,
So come in close and I’ll spin for you a song
Of an autumn’s end and a winter’s icy night
And a child who loved her father more than light:
He was more to her than the morning and its light.
An Inkling Apprentice 