The Wind Can Only Whisper

©Eleanor Fairchild (Truly Carmichael)



If I ask you for your story what would you tell to me?
You'd say I really mustn't. No I couldn't possibly.
Have not you any heroes? No one who stirs your heart?
If you have got no tales to tell, it's time that you should start.

For who will sing their praises when my lonely voice is still?
The wind can only whisper and the water never will

Not only deeds of glory are fitting for a song
What of yon blushing maiden, her bloom will fade ere long
And what of quiet triumphs, those few who turn from sin?
Or those who lose with honor, or the champion, again?

For who will sing their praises when my lonely voice is still?
The wind can only whisper and the water never will

Oh who will tell your story and will they tell it right?
Make memories of the moments or they might not last the night
Our history is our future, the children need to know
And how are they to learn it if we do not tell them so?

For who will sing their praises when my lonely voice is still?
The wind can only whisper and the water never will

What is your inspiration, what will be said of you?
What is your reputation, and are the stories true? 
And what of me you ask me, when that bell for me has rung
Oh if my songs outlive me, then I shall not pass unsung.

For who will sing their praises when my lonely voice is still?
The wind can only whisper and the water never will


Eleanor's note: This piece was written for Loch Sollier as a tribute, when I was their titled bard.