at the end of the rainbow.
That the farthest fields were
greener than my own,
but the myths I’ve followed
have disappeared like ripples on water
and now I’m heading home.
I’m going back where it’s at,
where the fires warm glow
eases the tired brow.
Back where it’s at,
a loving, loving home,
back where friends are friends
and neighbours help one another.
Back to the bosom of my family,
back where it’s at.
(1 August 1995)
especially whenever I go away.As the years tumble byand as I look at them,they seem quite amusing nowthan on the day they happened.The following records a journeymy wife and I took many years agoto The Viking Hotel then ownedby Irish singer Daniel O’Donnell.My wife is a great fan of hisand I have to confessI have…
David Harris – 13 September 2009There stands the ragged troubadourdusty guitar in his handsserenading the crowdgathering around the hot dog van.He persists between the jeers, yellsand insults thrown at him.Then he tried to pass the plateonly to have it tossed back again.Next he tried the cinema queuethe taxman had hit them hard;serenading wasn’t easyto a…
wanting us to retreatinto pastures of the past,to places where our heart sangout with joyous melodiesand contentment laidbeneath our feetwhere love sprang eternalon our happy days,which now seema million miles away.30 September 2009
the sunshine of your smile,that I what I wake to see.Outside maybe gloomy,dark clouds may mar the blue,but then I look around,and what do I see,the sunshine of your smile,that warms the heart of me.No tears of sorrow,at what tomorrow might bring,because your face is lit up,with the sunshine of your smile.(12 June 2007)
If only the world lost its predigests,how wonderful the world would be.No more fire to anger heart and mind,only love to still tempest waters.If only we could uniteand abandon our hate at sea.No more cries of pleading death,no more citadels raised to the ground,no more helplessnesswould ever be found.If only we let, our hate get…
covering everything, in its wake,the night becomes aliveand the nocturnal creatures awake.The shriek of an owlswooping silently on wing,and the shadows of a batsilhouetted in aerobaticsunder the moonlight.Struggles of life and deathare hidden from our eyeswhen the night becomes aliveand the nocturnal creatureshunt to survive.7 April 2012
