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Courting Autumn

by Pamela Wyn Shannon

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1.
O Bitersweet Dear Madeline by Pamela Wyn Shannon Your wine-kissed lips and blushed stain Are rustic songs with a yearn for refrain Deep-dyed the twilight in the violet hour The garden lantern makes golden the flowers O Bittersweet Dear Madeline The bedstraw is tangled in your hair He flutters over your bright mouth As you gently pull him to your lair Your love making the earth sweet As your bodies perfume the passing air... A fallen leaf has been misplaced Tis woven in the nest the sparrow made Dewy tongues speak and delay The hips of trees do sing and sway O Bittersweet Dear Madeline The bedstraw is tangled in your hair He flutters over your bright mouth As you gently pull him to your lair Your love making the earth sweet As your bodies perfume the passing air... They rush to come with the flowing air They change their shape Then disappear From here to hear Disappear...
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Tis Rambletide in Ambleside by Pamela Wyn Shannon Tis Rambletide in Ambleside Wind-twisted trees, the thorn of you The season's leaf is gold and red On lilting paths they fall to bed And we become brighter in our dying And we turn golden as we fall Spindle berries split and show Sunset-colored seeds that glow The leaf fires scent the air with musk Shadowed spindle tree at dusk And we become brighter in our dying a And we turn golden as we fall Tis Rambletide, so off I go Through Ambleside, the path unknown October fields of umber hue Over rain-soaked rocks I quickly move Can I walk through soft meadows and briars alike? Can I move through with the thorn of you inside? The knobbed and knotted arms I climb To view the falling from up high In their departure, I arrive With ever leaf, a floating sigh And we become brighter in our dying And we turn golden as we fall Tis Rambletide in Ambeside Wind-twisted trees, the thorn of you The season's leaf is gold and red On lilting paths they fall to bed...
3.
Courting Autumn by Pamela Wyn Shannon Take a turn with me Autumn, Through the gloaming, in the fold With black crows at my shoulder, I'll fly in with the cold Come courting at my doorstep, With a seedpod bouquet Blustery and bold I will sweep you away... What can I bring you? Name any, name all Bring me a basket to catch when I fall Why do you chill me and stir my heart so? You cared for my seeds when my woeful winds blow... You've ripened and berry-stained my lips with your kiss The flower and faded, But swells the fruits, haws and hips After the harvest, why feel I such grief? Fear not, you shall prosper, If you braid the last sheaf... Why deprive me of sun, Make the evening come early? So you will raise up the fire, And make sweet warm company Am I to die soon? My bones turn to clay? My trees will cradle you to the heavens, And you'll fly away...
4.
Woolgathering by Pamela Wyn Shannon I pull the leaves from my tangled hair The gusty wind storm had blown them there Burning leaves scent the autumn air The smoke rolls up through the haze I pull the burrs off my ragged coat Woolen scarf snug around my throat The river swells with teacups afloat In the dark drizzling day O, Autumn I love your ways Your burnished leaves and your golden hay The way you wake me with your restless wind That hollers wide through the braes O Autumn I love your ways Your melancholia and brooding gaze Will you promise to keep me warm With woolgathering days? I spin the days with my wandering I knit the months with my squandering I weaver the feathers of a fledgling Stained with the ripe fruit's red wine I pull the tufts from the thorny brake your blustery winds tempt to vex my stay But i'm forever dyed-in-the-wool With my woolgathering ways
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September's Way by Pamela Wyn Shannon At Summer's end the crickets fade And birds soon leave the nests they made The rush of sadness pulls me down But lifts when whirling winds resound The falling acorn, the bent leafy road The wet mossy bark, the insect's dull drone The red ember sunset, the seed-rattling gourd The crackling wood in the black iron hearth Time is turning, toiling, churning September's way will slowly turn The plow again for harvest's horn Until the bracken and stubbled field is frosted The cold gorge and rushes, the pending willow The gurgle of rain, glistening gleam of red leaves The calm of the horses, their scent on the gate Mud on the slates, wet wool on the lamb Time is turning, toiling churning September's way will slowly turn The plow again for harvest's horn Until the bracken and stubbled field is frosted The wet-lustered rosehips, the dark crimson haws The crop of the berry in glistening shaws The cobnuts and filberts, the hazel and husk Sacks for the nutting, hunted at dusk Time is turning, toiling, churning September's way will slowly turn The plow again for harvest's horn Until the bracken and stubbled field is frosted The ripe apples fall When the spice-chilled winds blow Earth-linked are pumpkins And vined as they grow The grey musky rabbit, the cold stem of the kale Smokey and frosty is the breath of the earth Time is turning, toiling, churning September's way will slowly turn The plow again for harvest's horn Until the bracken and stubbled field is frosted Red burnished pears soaked in claret-red wine Days of the hydref soaked in tree sap and brine The kernfests and clyacks Round the plenty filled horns The dark cello hum of the tress' plaintive sound...
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Pipkin 05:31
Pipkin by Pamela Wyn Shannon Pipkin, Pipkin, from a seedpod bouquet Fell from a seed head, and Pipkin flew away With his velvety coat and his silvery plume, He takes flight The winds set him sailing in the Autumn He's a beautiful kite, he's a beautiful kite Pipkin, Pipkin swept up by winds that soar Blustery winds, blustery winds Guides you to my door Seedkin with whiskers, take off your velvety coat All the leaves have fallen, dearest Pipkin There's nowhere left to go, nowhere left to go And soon comes the snow Pipkin, Pipkin, from a seedpod bouquet Fell from a seed head and Pipkin flew away With his velvety coat and his silvery plume He takes flight The winds set him sailing in the Autumn He's a beautiful kite, he's a beautiful kite...
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Netherworld 05:27
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about

Courting Autumn was recorded largely by Pamela on her own throughout New England and is a rustic almanac of autumnal songs burnished with a melancholy mood, wistful vocals, and delicate hand-spun guitar playing.

credits

released January 1, 2008

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about

Pamela Wyn Shannon Wales, UK

Pamela Wyn Shannon's inventive and intricate guitar work has been described as "a tiny chamber orchestra working in unison at the end of her hands," and her vocal style has a delicate lilting sensitivity. Her unique compositions have an elliptical quality which creates its own time-frame, rules, and kingdoms, and are reminiscent of the magic found in UK '60s artefacts. ... more

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