Friday, October 21, 2011

Bardic in An Tir - Gwynafel Farleigh

We wait for the sun to set
For the wind to ebb away
For the fire to be lit
For the folk to find their way

We wait for Songstress Aria
To pull her drum around
For her voice to give it octave
In the hush we here it pound

We wait for Owen's flute to trill
And his singing of the Yew
Wait for Jazz's clear, sweet voice
A song she's written new

Charles sings to us in french
And Kelly's viking strong
Songs of war and love and death
Of battles right and wrong

Master James last night did speak
True tales he did tell
Of humor and of history
Of An Tir he knows well

The Brave and Bonny Host will ring
All voices filled with power
With (her Excellency) Baroness Mogg to lead the way
Our strong and gentle flower

Master Iago treats us fully
With his music and his prose
Scott and Richard break our hearts
With pinings and with woes

Ysane speaks about her soup
And afterwards:  To Cake!
Hamish plays his bagpipes loud
They echo 'cross the lake

Janice dances, hips a-jingle
She smiles with a wink
Eyes upon her every move
Cheeks aglow and pink

Will MacBrennan tells a story
With words the pull you in
He moves and gestures wildly
and leaves you with a grin

So many others I have heard
Whose names I do not know
You've shared your talents here with us
And left our hearts aglow

So raise your voices every one
And lets all give a cheer
Without them all that speak or sing
There'd be no bardic in An Tir

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