Misty tunes in sunshine hues,
Swirling, twirling, zest anew,
The pipes they played,
To molten runes,
And I, I wrote a song brand new.
Withered, shriveled, crushed dry grass,
Sprinkled hope, pink heather and laughs,
The clouds stood still,
Bowing to heaven’s will,
And I, I whispered the words en masse.
Mystic moon in silver haze,
Sedate, sated, the walk of grace,
The harp it played,
To souls amazed,
And I, I sang the song my way.