Festival Wind

The sun comes up and it starts the day

So I grab a cup of my favourite tay

And I cross the creek where the crawdads play in their watery home

The weasel whistles and the herons hum

And the pixie pirouettes upon my thumb

So I know that the day has finally come, it's time to roam

Pack our bags, harness the horses

For the frog just danced, the cat just grinned

I've now heard from reliable sources

That we're bound out on the festival wind!

A belt, a broach and a cloak of wool

And a tin cup, knife and a wooden bowl

And some sweet potcheen in a cruiscin full is what we'll need

Wrapped up tight in the family plaid

Are the grins and giggles of the games we've played

And they're all trussed up in the tools of trade to earn our feed

We bless the cottage as we depart

With Dobbin and Maggie to pull our cart

For they're sure of foot and stout of heart and strong of will

As we rove out in the light spring rain

The roads turn rough and the horses strain

But the laughter's sure then to ease the pain as we push up hill

When the day is done and the moon has smiled

And the starlight's gotten us both beguiled

Then the faeries dance, the magic's wild on a night like this

We dream of fancies that we would seek

And the wishes dear that we dare not speak

And perchance to feel then upon the cheek a midnight kiss

BRIDGE:

When we arrive at the village faire

Pennants and ribbons bright fill the air

Blacksmith, hostler and tinker are there

Magic and music extraordinaire!