Mike Heron

Feast of Stephen

Mike Heron


When winter came this year she found me well prepared for her 
The flame well fed with pine, shuttered windows oakwood doors 
From the low dales come the fiddler, gave his tunes their flight 
Don't know her name or the dance that became her so well 
From topmost limb of night's dark tree 
Tonight my lantern light floats free 
The ladies danced so well, the ladies danced so light 
But it was not mortal step drew me from my guests to meet the night 
Snow lies deep with friends unseen 
I will light my eyes to Venus green 
Holding my life with a hope 
When the midnight skies rise, 
She flies