1990 – 1999

A Lost Soul

The wind calls longingly across the moor
And souls lost to heaven cry evermore
Is it me alone who hears their pain
Love long lost is the same refrain
The night sky darkens and becomes as jet
Rain falling heavily as I then met
A spirit so white and pale as dust
Crying her song of loss in the dusk
We touched but briefly myself and the soul
Her hands trailing softly in the glow
Of a moon that shines with an ancient light
Aeons have passed and still she might
Wander among the lonely hills
Calling vainly with a voice that chills
My heart to the core but still I cherish
The sound of that cry that once did perish
For love that was scorned and thrown away
Fated to roam till the end of the day
Till time does end and the cosmos dies
And she finds her rest and with him lies…

June, 1999

Stephen’s Wish

By Celtic, Crystal, Cross and Heart…
Tis many peices that make a part
A rich and wondrous tale to tell
So dropped a penny in the well
Still looking for a spinning web
I’ll leap for freedom from the edge
To Tethys sea I’ll take my own
My faith, my sword and sacred stone
And which when lifted will shake the ire
Of all who share the unholy fire
To reason thus I’ll stake my life
And tis for you I’ll pay the price


A Dark Year

The night falls upon a troubled brow
Shadows stealing the light as now
The reaper waits to collect his due
A final demand from the lonely few
Whose dreams and hopes lie scattered around
Where fear and hate doth still abound…

I looked upon a sea of woe
And shuddered to see them brought so low
Children that lost the guiding hand
Unable to find the promised land
Am I as they so racked and forlorn..
An empty vessel, and abandoned pawn?

All of God’s children that have died by the hand
Of man and his greed and grasp for the land
Will we ever find our way again
To light and love that’s free of pain?

Lord if you love your children still
Reach out thy hand and exert thy will
Don’t leave us here in the shadow of night
Alone in the wilderness, away from the light…

The miller walks the path of dread
Toward the cries of those who led
The life and lives of the exiled few
A banished race who alone knew
That the price to pay would be dear indeed
A costly one just to be freed
From the crimes and sins of those who deal
In blood and lust upon the wheel….

London: 15.04.1993