1. |
Ladies of the Bower
02:15
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LADIES OF THE BOWER
Proud Lovage and sweet Tansy
The Ladies of the bower
Rule gently their domain here
By foliage and flower
Feverfew’s their trusted chamberlain
Chamomile their dearest friend
While Yarrow and good lemon balm
Their fair court still attend
Angelica grows stately
Bronze Fennel stands beside
Here’s Chervil and Sweet Woodruff
The bridegroom with his bride
Here’s Goldenrod and Mace and Thyme
Demozels to Summer’s Rose
And the seasons are the sweeter
For this benison that grows
Here’s herbs to bring you comfort
And herbs to dull your pain
Come make their close acquaintance
Learn their natures and their names
Here’s herbs to calm your breathing,
Healing herbs to bring you ease
They’re a gift to grace the garden
And a blessing to the bees
Proud Lovage and Sweet Tansy-herb,
The ladies of the bower
Invite you to their court here
Of foliage and flower
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Words & music by & © Talis Kimberley 2012
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2. |
These Roots
04:26
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THESE ROOTS
On a damp October morning the seed that grew me fell
It landed where the earth was soft, it landed safe and well
From seedling into sapling, a tree can take its time
Two centuries a sycamore: these roots are mine.
One bright September morning foundation stones were laid
Strong walls rose up to claim the ground where fox and badger played
Fresh brickwork upon brickwork so fast in such short time
Around this ageing sycamore – these roots are mine.
And all the years, and all the years, and all the years
And all the years, and all the years, and all the years
Now every Autumn morning they gather here to learn
I watch them settle, watch them grow and see them leave in turn
But I make no such journey – a tree can take its time
Two centuries a sycamore: these roots are mine.
And all the years, and all the years, and all the years
And all the years, and all the years, and all the years
Fill your pockets with the seeds I scatter
Fill them good and deep, fill them good and deep
Give them to the wind: it doesn’t matter
Where or when – the seeds will keep...
So I will shade your children and they will carry mine;
Two centuries a sycamore: a tree takes time...
Two centuries a sycamore: these roots are mine.
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Words & music by & © Talis Kimberley 2013
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3. |
God of Lost Things
03:56
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GOD OF LOST THINGS
Street penny sacrament, what are you looking for?
Lost in a moment and found
I am the god of lost things, and I will look after you
Foundling and fallen, not where it ought to be,
Mislaid and moved around
I am the god of lost things, and I will look after you
St Anthony won’t you come round, come round
Something is lost, and it needs to be found
And I wish that you might and I wish that you may
Help me to find what I’m seeking today.
Here is the coin that you dropped on the pavement
Distracted by music ahead
I am the god of lost things and I will attend to you
Here are the gloves that you tossed on the pillow
That slipped down behind your bed
I am the god of lost things and I will attend to you.
St Anthony won’t you come round, come round
Something is lost, and it needs to be found
And I wish that you might and I wish that you may
Help me to find what I’m seeking today.
I’m a friend to the desparate and daunted
Companion to beggars and kings, I do not
Envy the thrones of the mighty, I am content
As the god of lost things
Only don’t ask me for hope or for innocence
Keep this in mind as you pray
I am the god of lost things but I cannot comfort you
Meet me in Padua if you seek pilgrimage
Elen will show you the way;
I am the god of lost things and I will be there for you.
St Anthony won’t you come round, come round
Something is lost, and it needs to be found
And I wish that you might and I wish that you may
Help me to find what I’m seeking today.
Help me to find what I’m seeking today.
Hear me St Anthony, as I pray.
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Words & music by & © Talis Kimberley 2014
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4. |
The White Swan
02:01
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THE WHITE SWAN
My brothers all I wish you well,
I wish you all good things
Who have such clever human hands
Where once you each had wings
Who walk so fine upon the ground
Your feathers all long gone;
But as I am not man again
Let me remain a swan.
My sister dear, I wish you well
Whose tears I cannot dry
Am I denied both human form
And the means and strength to fly?
Am I to lose my sister’s love
Now grief is all her song?
Then if I cannot be a man
Pray let me a swan
Oh let me have my two white wings
And let me have the sky
I’ll circle round your castle keep
And bid you all goodbye
I’ll circle once then choose my course
And evermore fly on
I am no prince, I am no man
But I can be a swan.
I am no prince, I am no man
But I could be a bonny swan.
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Words & music by & © Talis Kimberley 2011
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5. |
In Northumberland
03:37
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IN NORTHUMBERLAND
I remember when she came aboard having paid her passage fee
I could scarcely take my gaze from her but she never looked at me
Not a man who laid a hand on her but was met with sharpened blade
So she kept herself in privacy and in privacy she prayed
And her hair is like the raven’s wing and her eyes are dark and clear
And her heart is in Northumberland and very far from here.
Only once she walked the deck at night while we waited for the wind
My watch done, I dared to speak with her, could she think of me her friend
Oh the tale she gave was wild enough, better lies are often told
And she wore great many necklaces and her rings were all of gold
And her hair is like the raven’s wing and her eyes are dark and clear
And her heart is in Northumberland and very far from here.
“This I’ll say, and you will hear me out, then I’ll trouble you no more:
If Northumberland is less than kind to you I shall be three weeks ashore”
All ashore, and she was gone from me not one single backward glance
Three weeks passed and I was bound aboard and I knew I’d little chance.
And her hair is like the raven’s wing and her eyes are dark and clear
And her heart is in Northumberland and very far from here.
All these years I’ve sailed the ocean deep I have held her in my mind
And I hope she’s in Northumberland and that Northumberland is kind.
Now my home’s whatever ship I’m on and my hearth’s the rolling sea
And my true love’s in Northumberland and very far from me.
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Words & music by & © Talis Kimberley 2013
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Talis Kimberley UK
"I'm a songwriter and singer; my songs are spun from folklore and history, stirred well with a hazel wand and served with
cake. I'll sing you ravens and bones and the story behind the story, I'll sing you bread and apples, ghosts and knitting, and bring you home with a pocketful of feathers and hope"
Voice / guitar / English concertina
Festivals, folk clubs, libraries, museums, & protests...
... more
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