Saturday, 29 June 2013


Yesterday was a sunny day but misty evening, and I was reflecting on the sunset concerts at Grantez...

Music over hills, sounds in the mist
Gathering here, singing ancient lay
They came, the tribe, to make their tryst
And listen to earth, to spirits of clay
Of ancient times, the shaman's trance
Swaying in the wind, within the grove
And here they circled round in dance
And buried long ago the treasure trove
Dews of night falling, upon good soil
Seeds are sown, and prayer wind blown
Till harvest home, to reap with toil
A gathering round the sacred stone
The mistfall comes, as it did yesteryear
And a singer's voice still rings out clear

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