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Silken Stuff She buys a scarf, a memory of  the places that they used to go She ties it all around her head And every time she wears it now The little slip of silken stuff Reminds her that  She was enough He brings a scarf from faraway  A little slip of silken thread He tucks it in his leather bag Between his business shirts and stuff Amidst the sights and fantasies And all the places that he’s been She knows that even faraway She’s been remembered on that day And that she is enough So many times he goes away Till every country is the same Hotels Dinners Meals And deals Shaking hands  Exchanging names Playing endless corporate games Before he boards the last flight out His trusty PA must sneak out And thrust into his attaché A packaged slip of silken stuff A “memory” of his time away To let her know he thought of her And that she is enough Soon she has so many scarves So many memories  His, not hers And all reminders of the times She’s been alone  With nothing but  A “leave a message a

Many dream of flying Many fly Some take off and soar Some take off and fly for a short while Only to fall again But some get up  And run again Again And again And again Wings outstretched Waiting for that one breeze Tilting their wings Trimming their feathers And running Like madmen To catch the next upward breeze Until the wind lifts them up And then For the briefest moment in time They are soaring Maybe not even that high But they’re flying They are flying Flying Soaring There are those For whom the take off is just too hard and the safety of the ground is easier to contemplate Than the pain of the fall They point their fingers at the crazies with their wings outstretched They shake their heads And they walk by Because They will never experience the rush under their wings  And that  one  brief  incredible  moment  of  soaring

A little boy was playing one day In a cobbled street in the village O When along came a troupe of dashing young men With their shiny swords and medals O With their shiny swords and medals O Where are you going? The little one asked As they marched by so proudly O “We’re off to battle in a far away land To fight for our King and country O To fight for our King and country O He ran up the hill to his cottage home  To tell what he saw to his mother O But standing at the gate she was weeping on the shoulder  Of his Daddy with his shiny sword and his medals O Of his Daddy with his shiny sword and his medals O “Where are you going with your swords and medals?” Where are you going dear Daddy O “I’m going to battle in a far away land And to fight for our King and country O And to fight for our King and country O “Can I go with you?” The little one begged “To the faraway land of fighting O” “I need you here my big brave boy To look after your mother and our baby O To look after your mother and