Turning of the Seasons
(Roxanna Bruscha)
The bonny light in the dawning of the springtime
Touches the land with a green so sweet.
Midsummer's song fills all life with a joy
That spreads across the fields on our dancing feet.
The harvest moon calls us home in the evening,
The fruits of our labour to enjoy at our ease.
Winter's touch brings the stillness of night
And the restful dreams of waking from a peaceful sleep.
Come to the lands of the good folk.
Feast on sweet wine and song.
Dance to the rhythm of life
And the beating of your heart as the world turns on.
And when twilight spreads its blanket 'cross the sky,
And Sleep knocks at the door as the fire burns low,
Greet her with a smile and a loving, warm embrace,
For all dreaming comes of sleep
And the reaped will grow.
(Roxanna Bruscha)
The bonny light in the dawning of the springtime
Touches the land with a green so sweet.
Midsummer's song fills all life with a joy
That spreads across the fields on our dancing feet.
The harvest moon calls us home in the evening,
The fruits of our labour to enjoy at our ease.
Winter's touch brings the stillness of night
And the restful dreams of waking from a peaceful sleep.
Come to the lands of the good folk.
Feast on sweet wine and song.
Dance to the rhythm of life
And the beating of your heart as the world turns on.
And when twilight spreads its blanket 'cross the sky,
And Sleep knocks at the door as the fire burns low,
Greet her with a smile and a loving, warm embrace,
For all dreaming comes of sleep
And the reaped will grow.