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Four Seasons

From the Album Weave

Four and twenty fading leaves have fallen from the tree
With silent echo from distant centuries past
Fleeting thoughts of summers gone with loves that came and went
While sand was falling slowly through the glass

A time of warm reflection floating gently by
The daylight baton relayed once again
A time to open palms and pass on our borrowed gifts
Putting down the sword to reach out for the pen

The air takes hold its icy grip as the day breaks into light
Gardens white from Jack’s immortal sword
The fragile journey in circles caught trapped by borders dark
But comfort found as a note within a chord

The festive bridge so welcome, spans from old to new
Following a star from centuries past
Giving strength to face a new year, head bowed before the wind
As a weary mother prepares the summer’s cast

With darkest days behind us, the cleansing has begun
Terra brings to life the sleeping roots
Tiny hearts are soaring from tree to waking tree
While Eros stands awaiting time to shoot

The crease has been prepared, the willow linseed oiled
By hands that dream of centuries to come
From ash to dust to hungry earth, the empty beds awake
A symphony conducted by the sun

As life steps firmly forward the stars put in their place
Cases packed with dreams that can come true
Sleeping layers forgotten, time touched by evening sun
A wine glass filled with nothing much to do

Majestic rows of colour, waving to the sky
Trading light for life that birds will plant
A berry can down branches passed and necks that glow at night
While still green hearts are learning how to dance.


The first line of this song was “Four and twenty blackbirds,” which I suppose was a flashback to the childhood nursery rhyme. Imagine that, they used to put lovely blackbirds in a pie! Worse still, it appears that the chef parbaked the birds, so when the pie was opened, they could sing to the king while he was eating them alive. There was my dear old mother singing me to sleep, not realising that if I had stopped to think about the words, I could have been traumatised.

Back to Four Seasons. The blackbirds became leaves falling from a tree which laid a path to seasons. I enjoyed writing this song, as the poetic feel of it gave me scope for more ambiguity than normal.