Posted by: Peadar Ban | February 22, 2009

Joining In The Song

In the old days when fathers never left
Except to go off to war
In those days when mothers never left
Except to die in bed
Some wild child would see Sun set
And wonder where it
Had lain its brilliance for the night
And which grace of mystery
Was Sun’s place of rest.

And the same child when Moon rose
Stood on a hill alone
Or the same child when Moon rose
Leaned on the sill at home
And listened to what Moon was singing
Playing with the wild idea
Of joining in the song.

When in those days clouds bent low
In a gentle way they seldom show,
All who chose to ride along
Were lifted onto breath of song.
The sleeper in his red brick home
The dreamer on the cobbled street
The shepherd pasturing his sheep
Up on the cresting hill
Lifted. And all was still.


  1. Very nice.

  2. Thank you, Trooper


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