Light3

Windsong

I came first into Eden. I am old, yet young and free.

I walk the snow-capped mountain tops. I sail the white-capped sea.

I kiss the cheeks of laughing babes, play games about their feet.

I need not tell you who I am... You'll know me when we meet.

I help the autumn leaves to fall, the winter snow to drift.

I sing the songs of centuries the desert sands to shift.

I hide in darkened shadows, or chase you down the street.

I need not tell you who I am... You'll know me when we meet.

I reap destruction far and near when riled by summer's heat,

lay waste to buildings large or small which dare to trip my feet.

I carry death on out-stretched arms. I dance to a roaring beat.

I need not tell you who I am... You'll know me when we meet.

The Winter Tree

Nothing is so sad as a winter tree

standing alone and bare,

feeling the cold and icy breeze

chilling its branches where

once a crown of whispering leaves

chattered of summer days,

their colors bright and colors bold

setting the scene ablaze.

A Hug

I know you really want a hug and I'm trying hard to send one,

for a hug is like a promise that you really can depend on.

It makes you feel security, protection from above.

It warms you up and tucks you in and circles you with love.

I know you really want a hug, or at least I hope you do...

'cause I've an awful lot of them that I'd love to share with you!

Alone

Lonely little caboose on the railroad tracks,

wonderin' if the train is ever coming back.

How were you left there so sad and forlorn

to watch for the cars and their passing to mourn?

No more smoke, no more whistle, no more clickety-clack,

no more make believe trips to Chicago and back.

The station was busy when Johnny was ten.

You circled the tracks again and again.

Now your tracks are all dusty - your windows the same.

Your little friend Johnny has tired of the game.

The happiest days that you can remember

all came to an end one night in December.

a new kind of track lay stretched on the floor

with shiny new cars, one, two, three, four.

Your Johnny now travels to "Indy" and "LeMans"...

'round banked curves and hairpins go the cars that he runs.

So exciting the trips to Daytona and back

that he never even sees you there on your track.

Poor little caboose - no good by yourself.

So sad to be left there alone on the shelf.