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Blow soft, my children of the wind
Grind down this history
This urchin, ragged land
Feel the pull of moontide in the pagan heart
Hear the roar of kings in battle-fine array
Upon Preseli's lonely moors
The purple of the heather
Like some sunset, swelling sea
That breaks forever
On some craggy, unknown shore
The hermit sleeps in a six foot cave
Somewhere deep beneath
The wizard's self sealed stone
And up, above the island hills
My zephyr children dance with clouds
And I hear still their singing in my hammered ears
And cracked lips move in mute refrain
The harmonies to sound |
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Song of the Morning
Carnmenyn
Wandering
A Solstice Song
Jenie's Song
songwriting credits
T Pettitt, J Gleave |
