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Marc's Musings
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My flight plans are all booked up. I'm heading to Italy in December, and I can't wait. I already have friends to stay with in The Netherlands and Switzerland. And I'm securing something in Rome pretty soon. The rest of the time, I'll be enjoying time with my mom and wandering around the Veneto and Venice. Can you tell I'm excited? :)

I can't believe, Texas Renaissance Festival is coming to a close. Just two weeks left, but I can't WAIT for this weekend. The weather should be Cool which will make a nice change from a wee bit too much heat and humidity.

Next week, we head to Bryan for a radio performance, play the final weekend of TRF, and then we're off to Louisiana for a week. Things are staying incredibly busy. My kitties are starting to ask, "mew" aka "Who are you?" when I come back from the weekend. I can't imagine what they'll say after I get back from three weeks in Europe!

I imagine it would go something like, "mew, mew, mreow!" Followed by a long "Grwwl," saying, "What did you bring me?" Hmm? What kind of presents from Italy should a bring cats?

Maybe I should just stick with presents for friends.

Speaking of which... how would you like a postcard from Europa? If so, drop me an email with your name and mailing address, and I'll do the best I can!

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Many blessings. Slainte!
-Marc

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Marc's Lyrics & Poetry
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Middle Earth Quivers
by Marc Gunn, November 4, 2004

Inspired in part by the Lord of the Rings, this poem is a vision of hope for all who feel oppressed by forces they cannot control. There is always hope.

The sun is still unseen,
Yet at hand,
A warm mist still hovers over the land,
While all of Middle Earth Quivers
  At the terror in the East.

There in his white castle
  On his White thrown
  Sits the White Wizard
  Grimmacing.
His spells intermix with hammer fells.
An army rises from ash and soot
As he wanders among the shrubs.
His eyes afixed to the East
  And world domination
  As he brushes his hand
  Over a withered bush.

The end is near,
Yet the whispers in his ears
Are the watchful eyes
Of his former allies
And the people he thought
He had crushed appear.

The wizard's tongue may be glib
Among the men who long for justice.
But before this night is through
The sun in the East will rise anew,
And Middle Earth will at last know rest.

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Soul of a Harper
An autoharper's spiritual wandering through Celtic songs. Beautiful and fun Celtic folk songs to celebrate Your Scotch-Irish heritage.

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