Tag Archives: Sung

Another cliché country song

February 5, 2017 Pathematica

A serenade for Valentine's Day

And here is a picture of a traditional
Valentine gift (plant genitals):

Daffodils. Copyright (c) Isobel Smerdon 2015 (with permission)

Another dawn, another high,
Another sun to reach the sky,
Ain't nothin' for spoilin' the view.
Another chance to sing along,
Another cheesy country song,
Ain't nothin' so lovely as you.

Another mess of love to spend,
Another Valentine to send,
Ain't no one so thoughtful and true.
Another chance to sing along,
Another corny country song,
Ain't nothin' so perfect as you.

Another day, another night,
Another chance to get it right,
Ain't nothin' that I'd rather do.
Another chance to sing along,
Another cliché country song,
Ain't nothin' so worth it as you.

Another note, another rest,
Another push to do my best,
Ain't no one that I'd rather woo.
Another chance to sing along,
Another good ol' country song,
Ain't nothin' so precious as you.

~~~~~~~~~~~
Double negatives noted (pedantry
temporarily suspended for artistic
effect; you old romantic, you).

Lyric Poems, Poetry

Return to Eden

December 26, 2013 Pathematica

From all we've become from all that we've been,
From all of the struggle of life between,
We know in our hearts, from the things that we've seen,
That love alone shall carry us home.

From all that we've borne from all we've been through,
From all we've survived to begin anew,
We pledge with our lives, in the things that we do,
That love alone shall carry us home.

We've searched through the carnage after the fight;
We've buried our dead and we've cried through the night;
We've pressed through the darkness and reached for the light;
Now love alone shall carry us home.

We've seen where the footpaths of hatred have led;
We've wept bitter tears and we've honoured our dead;
We've witnessed revenge and we choose life instead;
Now love alone shall carry us home.

For love, alone, can carry us home.

Celtic wheel, Lyric Poems, Poetry

Imbolc

June 23, 2013 Pathematica

Little green shoots from little white roots,
The snowdrop shakes the valley;
Bearing the chill, the ewe on the hill
Knows stirrings in her belly.

Lowering skies, the Gráinneog lies
Though winter stores be dwindling;
Glorious day, the Cailleach will stray
To gather winter kindling.

Brighid! Oh, Brighid! Oh, come to me
To satisfy this yearning;
Rushes are scattered with welcome prayer,
The Imbolc fire is burning.

Brighid! Oh, Brighid! Oh, welcome day,
The winter storms abating;
Jewels are fastened upon her breast;
Your Brídeóg doll is waiting.

Deep in the gloom, the sloe is in bloom,
And all the world rejoices;
Sealing the fest, the bannock is blest
With grateful hearts and voices.

Circle the well and, under the spell,
The guardian Sidhe are waking;
Turn to the right, as day follows night,
The earrach dawn is breaking.

Celtic wheel, Lyric Poems, Poetry

Ostara

June 15, 2013 Pathematica

Come, Ostara, maiden of the morn;
Starlight glitters through the mist before the dawn.
Come, Ostara, spirit of rebirth;
Magick stirring in the cradle of the Earth.
And sing, rejoicing in the swelling of the buds,
Sing for the trees and the greening of the woods.
And sing! The cock crows welcoming the dawn;
Sing for the light of the forest reborn.

Come, Ostara, caring as the dam,
Lending succour to the kitten and the lamb.
Come, Ostara, bringing love to share,
Laying warmth upon the fledgling and the hare;
And sing, rejoicing in the sowing of the fields,
Sing for the Sun and the power nature wields.
And sing! The Green Lord dances in the light;
Sing for the day and the passing of night.

Come, Ostara, burgeoning with love;
Cast enchantment on the seabhac and the dove.
Come, Ostara, bringer of desire;
Heartbeats quicken in the kindling of the fire.
And sing for lilies offered to the blushing maid;
Sing for the courtship and laughter in the glade.
And sing for pledges plighted there in truth,
Sing for the joy and the promise of youth.

Celtic wheel, Lyric Poems, Poetry

Slán abhaile, mo chairde

December 18, 2012 Pathematica

The music and friendship we've shared on this night
Shall comfort my heart when I roam.
The journey abhaile sees the moonlight;
God bless, dear friends, "Safe home."

The candles burn low; the fires will fade;
We've tarried with friends since the gloam.
The deepening snow lies soft in the glade;
God bless, dear friends, "Safe home."

The days have grown short; the nights have grown long;
We've wandered on land and on foam.
The heart shall find peace where roots have grown strong,
God bless, dear friends, "Safe home."

The love and the fellowship shared in my time
Shall follow me under the loam.
New journeys to make and new mountains to climb;
God bless, dear friends, "Safe home."

God bless, dear friends, "Safe home."

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“Slán” is pronounced “s-lawn” and means “safe”
“abhaile” is pronounced “a-WALL-ye” and means “homeward”
“Slán abhaile” means “Safe home”
“cara” means “friend”; “mo chairde” means “my friends”

Slán abhaile, mo chairde

Celtic wheel, Lyric Poems, Poetry

Samhain

October 30, 2012 Pathematica

Ave Hibernum

Now the barley fills the granary floor;
As the cattle come to shelter from the moor,
May the gilding of the leaves
On the Autumn trees
Bring a welcome at the opening door.

May New Year's dreams fill Samhain,
When every cherished heart beyond the veil
Brings the memory of a kiss
To a time of bliss
While the paths between the kingdoms prevail.

Now the bonfire on the bountiful land
Shares its sacred flame with every fire brand
That each hearth and home be warm
Through the winter storm
And each door against the coming frost stand.

And New Year's dreams fill Samhain,
When every cherished heart beyond the veil
Brings the memory of a kiss
To a time of bliss
While the paths between the kingdoms prevail.

Now the labours for the Hærfest cease;
With the table overflowing for the feast,
Set a place for absent kin;
Let the night begin;
May loved spirits move amongst us in peace.

For New Year's dreams fill Samhain,
And every cherished heart beyond the veil
Brings the memory of a kiss
To a time of bliss
While the paths between the kingdoms prevail.

Celtic wheel, Lyric Poems, Poetry

Beltane

May 25, 2012 Pathematica

Ave Aestas

Arise, gentle children of the faerie mound—
The bonfires flicker in the waning night.
We dance to the Greenwood, where the Queen is crowned,
And sing, as the seasons turn to light.

We march with the Aos Sí, on this day—
May casts its enchantment on Beltane.
The waxing Sun, with golden ray,
Shall warm the earth again.

In glory, the Tuatha Dé Danann ride!
Come, the stag in his wood and forest flow'r in weald;
What Magick! Let the songbird bide;
May barley gild the field!

Come, all ye children of the Mother Goddess,
Trooping with the faerie folk,
And spread your garlands all about the forest;
Rowan, Ash and Oak.

Come, gracious spirits, proud and free,
And bless the Holly tree,
The Hawthorn, with the humble bee,
The Hazel, crown and root.

Come, blissful sprite and faerie fay
And watch the fawns at play.
The Willow, Birch and Alder sway;
The sapling spreads its shoot.

Lux caelestis, que in omnibus incidit sed paucum illuminat