Inspired by Folk... and in Loving Memory

So, I decided to have a go at writing folk songs... perhaps not as random as it might first seem!

Having spent the weekend in the fabulous company of Beardy (and non Beardy) folk, at our first Beardy Folk Festival, I felt totally inspired to put pen to paper and try come up with my very own folk song (or rather songs plural as it turned out!)

The festival 'arena' set within the enchanted walled garden at Hopton Court, in South Shropshire, proved to be the perfect setting for a heady, summer solstice, festival experience, bursting with talented lyricists and gifted musicians.

Yes, I've been to festivals before, and been left feeling completely in awe by some of the many incredible live performances I've seen.  So what was different this time?  Well, having lost both parents now (dad fifteen years ago, almost to the day, and mum just a few months ago), I've been somehow searching for an outlet to express my feelings for them both, and to create some kind of personal tribute in their memory. What better way than to have a go at creating my very own folk song(s), especially for my very own folks?!

With inspiration bubbling over, I couldn't even wait to get home before having a go at some lyrics, and began jotting down a few ideas on the back of a discarded envelope, while my hubby drove us back in the old MoHo to Leeds.  Once I'd started, the words just seemed to flow, and somewhere along the M1 I realised I'd put together a series of rambled lyrics for not one, but two potential 'songs'.

Admittedly my musical expertise is limited, however my love and enthusiasm for the art-form certainly isn't.  Though I play a little guitar and have dabbled on the Uke, I'm expert at neither, but know enough chords to throw together a simple melody.

So that's my next challenge, to put music to the words, in the meantime here's my first attempt at folk lyrics... in loving memory of my very special folks.

Firstly mum, passed away just a few months ago. Strong, determined, and fiercely independent lady who survived many challenges. Although no longer with us, she'll continue to be a huge influence and source of inspiration as I make my way through my own remaining years.  Modest, Yorkshire lass, never liked a fuss, and definitely didn't have time for life's needless frills...

No Fuss, No Frills

Verse 1: Alone at the station, a girl nine years old, a pillow case swaddling her world and her clothes

Leeds just wasn’t safe, Kirkstall Road had been hit, but little Mo drew on her strong Northern grit

 Chorus: Keep it real, keep it true, want no fuss want no frills, remembering days ‘neath those Pateley Bridge hills

Where life’s lessons she learned, not from mum nor from dad, meant for sweet-simple pleasures she’d always be glad

Verse 2: Life moved-on and she wondered how things might have been, if she hadn’t have seen all the things that she’d seen

Yet with steely de-ter-min-ation carried on, onwards and upwards, what’s gone now is gone

Verse 3: Though she worked hard to raise them, she asked not a lot, and the grat-i-tude she deserved it meant diddly-squat

To the self-centered folk who be-came long-estranged, taking with them her cash… leaving her with their pain

Verse 4: Then a soft Scottish voice spoke to her as they danced, and she decided she might give this stranger a chance

Three months later they wed, no champagne, just a cuppa, as they made their life plans o’er a fish n chip supper

Verse 5: When di-ag-nosed ter-minal, did she break down, no not a chance, though she did bear a frown

What with so much to do, yet with so little time… she lived, loved, regardless, so proud she was mine

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And for dad, who died suddenly 15 years ago.  Small in stature, but with a huge heart and strong beliefs. A natural when it came to the art of poetry and music, but never realised his own worth. Proud of his homeland and of being a Scot, but willing to leave it all behind for the love of his life, and their future together...

Musselburgh Pride

Verse 1:  Wee laddie from Wallyford, head of red hair, for music and poetry he had a flair

He never did make it big, not in his own eyes, and he re-al-ised not where accomplishment lies

Chorus:  In his pride, in his patience, in his Musselburgh roots, lay the heart of a gentleman twice size his boots

In his sentiment, principles, left wing beliefs, lay the heart of a giant, that now rests as he sleeps

Verse 2: He loved to play fitba’ in shorts to his knees, he’d cheer on Hibernian, Hibs if you please

So proud of his homeland, oh some they might say, why don’t you go back there if you feel that way

Verse 3: Well he married a lassie from Yorkshire you know, and the seeds of a future in Leeds they were sown

Settled and con-tent as a young man could be, he’d remember old Scotland, raise a glass of whiskeee

Verse 4: As a proud dad, he doted on his little girl, and had it been his, he’d have giv’n her the world

It was Fathers’ Day last when he held her soft hand, unbeknown to them both then he’d not long to stand

Verse 5: So this wee lad from Wallyford, Musselburgh’s pride, he left a great void in our lives when he died

Taken too soon, from the ones he held dear, sound-of-fiddle and bagpipes will keep his soul near

As I read the lyrics I've managed to cobble together, I can almost hear the melody, just need to figure out the chords now to make it happen! Perhaps my old dad with his ear for a tune, might give me a celestial hand!

Thanks for reading.