Standing Room Only

For most of life I have found myself on stage,

Or sitting in the front row.

Now it is humbling

To find myself in standing room only.

Where Do Dreamers Go?

Where do dreamers go,
when there’s no more dreams
or when Mothers, roses and innocent days are gone?

Where do dreamers go,
when there’s no more sunbeams
or when unicorns, special smells and memories fade?

Where do dreamers go,
when their tired of sleeping alone
or when fireplaces, hayrides and romantic walks are in the movies?

Where do dreamers go
when their all grown up?

The Piper, Crow and Me

I hear a lone piper
in the distance
the dirge he plays
a sad lament.
He has played that tune before
when I was younger
and then again not so long ago.
Now he plays more clearly
his mournful tune for me.

I hear the call of the crow
as it wings its way on high.
It has called before
when I was younger
and then again not so long ago.
Now its spirit cry I hear more clearly
for his call is to me.

Weep no more
let not a salty tear flow
nor let your sobs be heard.

I am the son of ancient Celts
heir to a thousand years of mist.

My soul soars above the green clover fields
dotted with brown thatched roof homes.
I hover near babbling streams
and play in the sea spray.

So let the piper’s dirge echo in the night
and let the winged messenger call
for I smell the peat fires of early dawn
and yearn for home.