An un-Christmas

The Rom of old, camped for a hundred years in the 'beautiful valley' at the foot of Mount Tigor would not have celabrated Christmas as we -- but Solstice most certainly -- always a reason for dance and song

and to welcome a traveling Bard from Moravia
.........................................................................................................

This would be best, methinks, sung in the Trevere' style in which each verse can be presented in a different meter and tune to meet the mood of the audience. Thus the singer can use any method to which their passion drives them.

Three Voices

CHORUS:
He came with staff, came with lute, here with twinkling eye.
Hid within, three voices sure, songs of earth and sky.

Buckskin boots scarce touch the grass, bard of silent moon.
Cloak of simple homespun, seized by ring of bone.
Laughter like bells aringing, strong voice wind in the trees.
No weapon did he hold, no foe on land or seas.

CHORUS:

His first voice was that of an ancient Jongleur bold,
Magic song trembling low to tell of ballads old.
Then lyric swing to heaven's height, to seize soul's claim
On dreams of knights and honor, and true archer's aim.

CHORUS:

The second voice could be heard in shadowed glade,
Or by tinkling spring of soft fern and fairie bade.
Whistles, chimes and whispered chant; hear now Mother Earth.
Child laughter, call of the deer, feel the song of birth.

CHORUS:

Voice made three was meant for me, shot into my heart.
Stir quick my soul, make me blush, never to depart.
He strode away into the dawn, lilting song most dear.
Of child now within my loins, he will never hear.

CHORUS (slow - minor key)