I’m a great fan of this fabulous folk musician,
this extraordinary composer and balladist.
I picture him singing with the Irish bard-kings of old,
long before they faded into the mist.

His songs make me feel like I’ve lived through the story
he’s telling with each new breath.
He’s immortalized stories of life and of glory,
and moved a generation to mourn death.

No matter how sad, hectic or intense my day,
the sound of his voice always makes me smile.
And my foot has a life of it’s own when he plays,
I truly like his style.

I first heard his music when I was a young,
and put his records on my Christmas lists,
and I’ve often wondered just when and how,
and by which artistic muse he’s been kissed.

He’s become a close companion
while I’m traveling distant shores.
He’s given me a piece of home to take with
that reaches deep inside my core.

So now, no matter how glad or strenuous my day,
the sound of his music always makes me while.
And it feels like I’ve got a direct line to home,
with more clarity than I’ve ever dialed.

This tribute doesn’t do him justice,
but it’s the only way that I know how.
So Mr. Lightfoot, if you’re listening,
thanks for the WOW!

You pretty much summed that up for us all.
Welcome, and thanks for sharing.

Welcome Bard's Fan. Great tribute to Gord! It's nice to have you here.

Thanks for sharing your poem, Bard's Fan...it is always enjoyable to read such heartfelt expressions. "And it feels like I've got a direct line to home..." - nicely put!

thats a nice poem! I like the idea of comparing Gordon with the Bards of Britain/Ireland.

Bard's Fan, About those earrings, I made them a matching draw-string pouch and put them in my guitar case. Later that day, I thought, ... my first medicine bag. Then four days ago, I wrote this poem: Walking Whisper

As I stood on the bank of the river
Alone, I sent up my prayer,
That we would be brought together.
I knew that He would care.

As my thoughts drifted back to the badlands,
Darkness set in once again
Like a ribbon that needs to be banned.
I was left without a friend.

Making my way through the clutter
Raising a candle to my heart
I thought I heard angel's wings flutter
When he sang out his lonely part.

Where are you, my love, oh where are you?
In the santuary at last.
Dreaming again just like you do.
Just like characters in a cast.

His blessings give life and breath.
Gratitude sings in my soul.
Only once more I shall rest,
When heaven embraces my goal.

Patti - Sounds like the healing has already begun. Good for you!

Hi Bard's Fan, Sometimes it takes me quite a while to get to a computer, but it was nice to see you wrote.
Things are ok. Could be better. (poor me)wah.