Wednesday, January 27, 2010

IN MY continued and somewhat fitful program to organize my old songs, I came across this one I wrote about twenty years ago. Not really a very strong effort but it has its moments -- enough to consider doing something with it anyway.


In a hidden forest valley,
Where a reckless river ran,
Lay an untilled fertile farm
Belonging to a rich old man.

He would retire from the city,
Soon, he said, to work his farm;
And though it rarely will come true,
Such a dream can do no harm.

Remembering only what he wanted,
Not the toil nor being poor,
He'd plow the earth as his father taught
A restless boy, long years before.

He never wound up his affairs,
And never noticed how time creeps.
One day it took him by surprise --
Now he neither plants nor reaps.
Perhaps it's best for dreams are happier,
So much happier, when one sleeps.

Still the river runs unheeding,
Still the pines grow on the hills;
All men's dreams are soon forgotten
But men dream on and ever will.

Stephen Brooke ©1991, 2010

Although the date on my copy said I wrote it in '91, I think that is when I worked it up with a tune. The actual lyric, I'm pretty sure, is older and originally written as a poem.

On a completely different subject, I used to 'follow' other blogs, do the RSS thing and so on, but I've found that it is actually a lot simpler just to put all the pages that interest me in groups of tabs and open them up every day or two to see what's going on. So if I'm no longer on your list of followers or friends or such, that's the reason -- chances are I'm still visiting from time to time. :)

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