The sun has left the zenith,
It’s fading from the sky;
The evening draws its twilight,
The bats begin to fly.
The warmth of sun is in the stones
That lie along the way,
The memories of summer held
More bright than I can say.
I know they say I’m dying
And passing from the light
But oh, I’ve had my merry days
I do not fear the night.
But – lay me not in darkness
With a candle at my feet
Set me in the meadow
Where the clover’s breathing sweet-
Weep no more my darling,
And redden not your eyes
But lay me in the grassy sward
Beneath the lambent skies.
The breath will leave my body,
The chill is coming soon;
The cloaking dusk of quiet
Gives way to Lady Moon.
The sun forgets the roses
The dew is falling fast
To wash their blossoms in the night
Reviving them at last.
I know they’ll say I’ve left you here
And gone beyond your sight,
But oh, I’ve had my merry days
I do not fear the night.
But – lay me not in darkness
With a candle at my feet;
Set me by the flowing stream
And kiss me there, my sweet.
Never wish I hadn’t gone
Nor hunger for my smile
But fold my hands upon my breast
And sit with me a while.
The sun will drown the starlight
In the morning of your days
Yet night is close behind you;
It’s only out of phase.
Remember I will love you
Until the end of time
I’ll walk beside you in our dreams
Forever on your mind.
I know I’ll be forgotten
As I step beyond the light;
But oh, I’ve had my merry days
I do not fear the night.
But – lay me not in darkness
With a candle at my feet;
Give me one more noontide
Where grass and water meet.
And when my breath is fully gone
And when my spirit’s passed
Why then you’ll lay me in the earth
And I shall sleep at last.
Joli Stewart is raised in the lap of luxury on her father's plantation near Charleston, South Carolina. High spirited, non-traditional and head strong, Joli refuses to accept any interference in her life or her romantic decisions. Follow her life dur
Tralee, Ireland. September 1948.
An arrogant, and highly agitated, priest arrives home after 40 years.
Days later he's dead. Suicide? Or did his past catch up with him?
Ireland 1947. Seven weeks of relentless snow. Guard Eamon Foley is searching for a missing child.
At Toby Appleyard’s farm, he discovers the kitchen littered with dead cats. And the skeletal remains of a woman. Upstairs, Toby is dead in his bed.
Sandie May Angel :o)