Song

The posts on this blog so far have all come from the accumulated bits of writing sitting on my laptop. I thought this one could do with a bit of context.

It came to me a year or more ago, when I was lying awake, with the rhythms of Springsteen’s Wrecking Ball in my head, on a Dutch barge belonging to some good friends. The barge, too big for our narrow canals, is moored on a tidal river, and twice a day it is lifted imperceptibly from the mud of the estuary, and just as imperceptibly set back down.

The flat land of the flood plain is protected from the spreading waters by a thin ribbon of raised land which carries the coastal footpath. Walking that path, you look out on one side over mud and reeds to the wider river, and on the other, over fields of sheep and acres of regimented orchards where rabbits tunnel in the flinty soil.

This marshy Saxon Shore feels ancient – the Romans came here long ago. The waters breathing in and out and the wading birds have always been here. But over there a road bridge leaps across the water and huge ships drift by. The modern world is not far away, only held at bay by the constant changing of this liminal place.

 

Song

  1. They are sleeping on the boats now
    To be ready for the flood,
    For the flood they know is coming
    To lift them from the mud.
    For the flood they know is coming
    To wash their fears away,
    They are sleeping on the boats now
    To be ready for that day.

Chorus:

Ten million stars float on the water

Ten thousand trees stand on the fell

A hundred knights sleep in the darkness

A single word to break the spell

 

  1. We are sleeping in the trees now
    To save them for that day,
    For that day we know is coming
    To carry worlds away.
    For that day we know is coming
    To teach us what is good,
    We are sleeping in the trees now
    To keep faith with the wood.

 

  1. He is sleeping by the fire now
    To keep away the cold,
    The cold he knows is coming
    To claim what he has sold.
    The cold he knows is coming
    To take his breath away,
    He is sleeping by the fire now
    Until the shining day.

4.

It is sleeping in the words now
The mem’ry of this life,
This life we know is slender
And bladed like a knife.
This life we know is fragile
And speeding fast away.
It is sleeping in the words now
The echo of this day.

Copyright © 2014 Fliss Watts

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Song

  1. Love that you see the barge and Twinney that way, I know exactly what you mean, but would never have been able to say it so beautifully.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s