Dust of the old seasons on every stone,
My paws are light as a waning moon,
I trod the empty corridors of memory all alone.
You can hear me whisper like a distant wind,
Or you can see me as the palest light of the new dawn,
You will feel me take heavy burdens off your mind.
I the deep dark times of no hope and despair.
I will be there beside you, in the silent halls of dream,
My strength I will give, my dearest friend,
Like unto the unchecked waters of a swollen stream,
The mightiness and courage your loved ones you will defend.
Evil will flee from your law,
And all about you creatured will say,
" Here walks one who was touched by the Ancients paws"
So sleep on, the Ancient will find you one day.
By Rona Oakpaw, MP
12. I laid her in a bed of earth,
so gently last spring,
Slowly there came a little green shoot,
Waving as the birds did sing,
My red rose of softest hues.
Summer came and passed on,
Her only bloom was gone,
But soon her pride will come back,
And vivid colors she won't lack,
My red rose of softest hues.
By Rona Oakpaw, MP
13. Sing out! Sing out!
For spring is abounding round about,
Sing out! Sing out!
Warm sunshine is here,
Oh lend me your ear,
As I sing about the spring,
Sing out! Sing out!
Grass is growing,
Flowers are showing,
Their faces to the sun,
So sing out! So sing out!
Trees are growing green and tall,
The sun shines down on all,
For the spring is here,
Sing out! Sing out!
By Rona Oakpaw, MP
14. Here I am a little shrew,
I'm so little I know not what to do,
I went to the infirmary to ask there,
She sent me away with nettle soup and a scare,
Away I did run, nettle everywhere,
Right into the Skipper of otters I do declare,
" Whats the hurry my little friend?"
Said the Skipper with a grin.
" See sir, I am a little shrew,
I'm so little I know not what to do.
So I went to the infirmary to ask there,
But that volemaid, she sent me away with a scare,
So pray sir tell me, what do I do?
For as you know I'm just a little shrew."
Skipper replied with barks of laughter,
"Away to the kitchens with pots and pans,
Lets go help Friar and lend him our hands."
By Belladour, MP
15. The Land of Dreams:
Far away lies a land known to some,
Rushing streams, tall trees,
And the birds singing sweetly,
In time with the cool breeze.
I only see that land,
When I gaze at the sky,
For it is the land where my heart longs to be,
And I shall be there, by and by.
By Rona Oakpaw, MP