The Wind in Willow's Hair...

from a child to a woman, she's more than passing fair

with laughter like music, and a smile so rare

it's magic of morning, the lark in the clear air

sure, it's breath of the angels; the wind in Willow's hair...

 

there's echoes of Erin, running in your blood...

a taste of the gypsy's bare feet in the mud;

it's 'luck of the Irish' that you're even here...

as though I've been granted one fine wish; the wind in Willow's hair

 

so walk with me, darlin'... 'neath this twilit sky

knowing we need not always see eye to eye...

there's a bond between us, that time cannot break...

and nothing I would not attempt for your sake.

 

if I am blessed with the grace of old age

I may be hard pressed to appear wise or sage

you may see me shiver, as into time I stare...

remembering the river... the wind in Willow's hair.

 

so waltz with me darlin'...'neath this starlit sky

knowing we need not always see eye to eye

the bond that's between us; time cannot break

and there's nothing I would not attempt for your sake...

 

from a child to a woman, she's more than passing fair...

with laughter like music, and a smile so rare...

it's magic of morning, the lark in the clear air...

sure it's breath of the angels; the wind in Willow;s hair.

 

...well... maybe this is the lyric to launch this whole enterprise with... I wrote this song in my sleep, many years ago. Willow and I had been canoeing on the Pigeon River, northwards from Omemee on a 'reasonable access' weekend ('reasonable' was always a bit of a misnomer)  and I had delivered her back to her mother and had a rare afternoon nap. I woke from a dream wherein I was seeing my hands play the chords, and the lyric came as fast as I could put it to page. The only song I ever recorded with my late pal Lee Morgan (on the kit, Brian Wakelin on guitar, J.P. Hovercraft on bass, George Bertok on keys? and to date the only song recorded and engineered by James McKenty, very early on in his career). That version is somewhere...

   I had the great pleasure of dancing the first dance with Willow at her wedding some years later (to that recording); and when asked to play a tune at her graduation from her hair stylist program last year, Mr. Fiorio (the fellow behind the Fiorio chain of salons in Toronto) raved about it and exclaimed:  "I must do something with this!"... well, we'll see what comes of that, but cousin Michael P. O'Toole and I recorded a simple version of it yesterday, and if the original turns up, I'll send him both. Much has gone missing in my life, but I am blessed to have my daughter and grandchildren. This lyric is me waxing 'Irish', I guess... 'the lark in the clear air' references a book from my father's library that I kept for years and never got around to reading. Maybe it will turn up as well, someday. Recorded on my old Guild nylon string guitar (yesterday), a finger picked rendition; also a departure for me. love to all, d.

1 comment

  • dennis O'Toole

    dennis O'Toole Peterborough Ontario Canada

    ... I realize that this whole process seems to reside on the assumption tat it might be read; and certainly I will; at some point. ...and treat it like a journal of sorts... one tat doesn't get lost under a stack of other stuff. f'rinstance...

    ... I realize that this whole process seems to reside on the assumption tat it might be read; and certainly I will; at some point. ...and treat it like a journal of sorts... one tat doesn't get lost under a stack of other stuff. f'rinstance...

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