Narrative Folk Pop

There was a keyboard, a guitar, a glockenspiel, a ukulele, a cymbal. The twinkle lights hung in the background. The table prepared in the back with coffee and tea and tulips. But we didn’t come for coffee or twinkle lights. We came for your music. The music that spins stories like magic. Songs of people and trains and hope and flowers and hope and grace. Harmonies united around truth, illuminating wonder, drawing back the veil.

When you sang of silver chairs and far kingdoms, I don’t know if you could see my smile so wide it made my cheeks hurt.