sisterknight looks over and sees the young lad..."sure if you bring yer voice along!" she gives him a wink....." but if ye have no voice, then the company is always good!!" laughing, sisterknight pulls out her tin whistle out of her travel sack and starts on a lively tune
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non nobis domine,non nobis sed nomini tua da gloriam.
Lady Marti, sitting dreamily beside the fire, places the guitar on her knee, reaches into her pocket, and pulls out her pick.....She begins to strum a few strings, and picks up Sister's tune....
The fire is so warm, and bright.........on such a cold wintry night...
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]AN EXCERPT FROM A POEM THAT I WROTE ON 10/11/07
WE CAN'T CHANGE WHAT WE HAVE DONE.... BUT ONLY TAKE A LESSON FROM EACH EXPERIENCE AND MAKE THE MOST OF EACH MINUTE THAT WE HAVE LEFT AND TELL OURELVES THAT IT IS OK TO LIVE, LAUGH AND CRY..... PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE ALL WORK TOGETHER TO GIVE US WHAT WE CAN AND SHOULD EXPERIENCE AND WE NEED TO CHERISH ALL OF THE TIME THAT WE SPEND WITH OURSELVES AND OTHERS MAKING THE MOST OF THE SPECIAL MEMORIES THAT ARE OURS.. AND THE ONES THAT WE HAVE YET TO CREATE WITH THE PEOPLE THAT WE HAVEN'T MET!!!!![/SIZE]
sisterknight gives her friend a wave " how's about i get the next round,eh??" shivering as she leaves the warmth of the fire "gawd i really do hate this cold...hamm i think a few drams of yer best whiskey will warm our souls, if ya please" tossing gold on the counter
*The sound of the tin whistle and guitar inspired Perkeo to get out his bohran and start to follow the music with a nice beat.*
On a cold night like this I would love some spiced mulled wine. There's nothing like good friends, roaring fire and music to warm your body and soul.
*Perkeo clears his throat and starts singing.*
One summer evening drunk to hell I sat there nearly lifeless An old man in the corner sang Where the water lilies grow And on the jukebox Johnny sang About a thing called love And it's how are you kid and what's your name And how would you bloody know
In blood and death 'neath a screaming sky I lay down on the ground And the arms and legs of other men Were scattered all around Some cursed, some prayed, some prayed then cursed Then prayed then bled some more
And the only thing that I could see Was a pair of brown eyes that was looking at me But when we got back, labelled parts one to three There was no pair of brown eyes waiting for me
And a rovin' a rovin' a rovin' I'll go For a pair of brown eyes
I looked at him he looked at me All I could do was hate him While Ray and Philomena sang Of my elusive dreams I saw the streams, the rolling hills Where his brown eyes were waiting And I thought about a pair of brown eyes That waited once for me
So drunk to hell I left the place Sometimes crawling sometimes walking A hungry sound came across the breeze So I gave the walls a talking And I heard the sounds of long ago From the old canal And the birds were whistling in the trees Where the wind was gently laughing
So a rovin' a rovin' a rovin' I'll go For a pair of brown eyes For a pair of brown eyes
Leelee sways to the music, as she sips her Whiskey. She turns around to see who is playing this wonderful music, as she starts tapping her toes. Hmmm, I wonder if anyone would care to dance???? Would warm us up a bit, it's a tad chill...
The sleepy wombat stirs and shivers. Glancing around the pub, she spies a lovely mug of hot wassail on the hearth. No one seems to be nearby, so she decided this looks like the perfect way to warm up. Aaah, a hot toddy, a fire blazing, and some lovely music. Who could ask for anything more?
Now, let's just look around and see who else is here...
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Check out my new blog at www.dilettantesdilemma.blogspot.com Patti, The Celtic Pretentious Wombat
Lady Marti yawns and sees the Wombat approaching. Lady Marti greets the small creature and invites her to sit by the hearth.... It must be time for music....... The Lady picks up her guitar and begins to strum a few notes to see if anyone else will wake up to join her.......
A tall, lean man in a green robe opens the door and peers into the darkness of the pub. "A pub can be a friendly, welcoming place," he thought, "or a place to get your nose bashed in. I hope this is the former."
He plunks down on one of the barstools and places a leather satchel on the bar, always keeping one eye looking around, and one arm protectively around the satchel.
"A whiskey if you please Landlord." He gently places a coin on the counter, and begins to look around, now that his eyes are beginning to adjust to the darkness. Puddles form around his feet as the snow melts off his clothing and drips to the floor.
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I am a stag: of seven tines, I am a flood: across a plain, I am a wind: on a deep lake, I am a tear: the Sun lets fall, I am a hawk: above the cliff, I am a thorn: beneath the nail, I am a wonder: among flowers, I am a wizard: who but I Sets the cool head aflame with smoke?
I am a spear: that roars for blood, I am a salmon: in a pool, I am a lure: from paradise, I am a hill: where poets walk, I am a boar: ruthless and red, I am a breaker: threatening doom, I am a tide: that drags to death, I am an infant: who but I Peeps from the unhewn dolmen, arch?
I am the womb: of every holt, I am the blaze: on every hill, I am the queen: of every hive, I am the shield: for every head, I am the tomb: of every hope.
The stranger strokes his beard and thinks, "I thought I heard the echo of music when I came in, but now this place seems quite silent. There's a wombat sleeping in the corner, but it appears there hasn't been much going on here for some time. I hope some of the locals will stop by soon, I've been a long, lonely time on the road and could use some conversation."
The fire on the hearth sighs a bit, as the wind blows outside. The wombat stirs a bit, as if dreaming.
"Well, at least it's warm in here," he muses, and makes himself more comfortable on the seat.
Leelee turns to the Barkeep, "May I have another dram of Whiskey, please. Thank you".
Hmmm, who is this tall, dark and braw Laddy seated across the bar? I see that the weather hasn't improved by the look of his wet cloak. And what is this?...he is guarding his satchel closely....I hope this Lad doesn't mean to cause any trouble (as she lightly touches the dirk at her waist for reassurance) .
I've been in one too many places where a ruckus starts.....I just want to relax, take in the warmth, lively music and enjoy myself for once. Where is Perkeo? Ahh, taking in a refreshment by the hearth. We need to liven this place up some....
The tall stranger sees the lady in green eyeing him from across the bar. He lifts his glass in her direction with a small smile. "So there IS someone still awake in this place," he says, "I was beginning to wonder."
Och!! I must hae been staring...he's acknowledged my presence. I hope he caught my eye on him, not his precious satchel. I dinna want him to get the wrong idea.
Leelee lifts her glass in his direction, nods with a cautious smile.
Leelee looks around and is wondering when Lady Marti and Sir Perkeo may strike up some tunes
"Ooh, she's a cautious one, this lass. And rightly so, of course. You never know who'll you meet on the road these days, and I'm a stranger in these parts. I must look a sight, with my muddy boots and this cloak smelling of wet wool. I'm glad I resisted the urge to buy her a drink. Might have seemed too forward. Perhaps the next round, she may have relaxed some by then. Guess I could try a bit of conversation though."
Lady Leelee raised a brow, slowly looked over her shoulder in the case this braw lad was speaking to someone behind her (i.e Sisterknight, Marti, Perkeo.....). No one behind her....hmmm...."Er.....aye, it is some quiet. But rest assure, it shall liven up directly....after a few more shots of whiskey". Lady Leelee nodded in the direction of the musicians, their heads bent close in low, slurred conversation.
"Nae matter what state these lads & lasses are in, they play mighty fine when they get to it" Leelee admired.
Lady Leelee took in the tall stranger's appearance once again. Trying not to be too crass she said, "Perhaps ye should get out of that sopping cloak.....stand by the hearth to dry off? Ye dinna want tae catch cold".
"I'm thanking you for your hospitality Miss," said the man, pulling the heavy cloak off his shoulders to reveal a travel worn but clean and well-repaired leather jerkin and a linen shirt underneath. He hung the cloak on a peg by the fire and began to warm his own hands at the crackling flames.
"Perhaps I can buy the next round?" He looks round at the musicians referred to by his new acquaintance, but they're deep in business of their own. "Well, for you and I anyway."
He keeps the leather satchel near his feet as he stands by the fire. One can tell it must contain something valuable to him.
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