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My Harp and Lute are wood and wire
Crafted lovingly and slow
Their music brings me from the pain
Of this frail World here below
And takes me to the Doors of Heav'n
Whither upward I would go

My Drum's a heartbeat, keeping time
Marks the measure of the tune
Counts the moments of the Dance
Sets the sygil of the Rune
On that rock I build my Song
Singing to the rising Moon

Harp and Lute, and Drum and Words
Words to sweep and twist and roll
Words the weft to weave the web
Woven with a single goal
A Web to catch My Lady's heart
A Web to touch My Lady's Soul

"May the road rise to meet you"
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