Perfect for chilling under the stars, on the beach, or anywhere you like to unwind... let my gentle words set to some gorgeous meditative music by composer Paul Foss, stimulate your dreams and visioning and take you to another place.

Cosmic Chill Out

That feeling... when your dreams are so good, you just don't want to wake up. 

Words and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, August 2023, all rights reserved.

Lyrics:
Exploding Dreams
Sleep can bring dreams that explode without warning,
So you long for the clock to hold back the morning,
Just a few more winks under Elysium’s elms, 
In the Brigit-bright night of other realms,
Of purple-hued mountains, high overflying
On a long-necked, long-legged crane, of Love undying.

In Persephone’s land, pomegranates gleam, 
Glistening cobwebs with rainbow dew stream. 
Demeter gliding through fields of cornflowers
Like lapis-lazuli, in the wee small hours.
Where Beauty walks in She, throughout the Night,
Veiled behind delicate, silver-winged sprites.

Crepuscular dark of the Land of the Fae,
Deep Saturnine pitch. Not such gaudy Day,
So brassily attired; it’s carbon klieg light 
An insult and blasphemy to my sight...
But wait ... rose light at the window calls us.
Aurora is here and with her, the dawn chorus.
© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut 



Music by Paul Foss 
Contact: paul@paulfossmusic
Dawn chorus by the birds of Glastonbury, Somerset.

Art: Fairy Forest by TheNocturnal Spirit on DeviantArt

Exploding Dreams

An erotic poem that allegorises the final stage in the process to birth the Philosopher's Stone, known to alchemists as the Marriage of the Sun and the Moon or the Peacock's Tail. 

Lyrics and music: Copyright © Annie Dieu-Le-Veut and Paul Foss, December 2023. 
Vocals: Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
Musical arrangement: Paul Foss, contact: paul@paulfossmusic.com
Cover art: Detail from The Garden of Earthly Delights by Hieronymus Bosch (1450-1516) 


I know a dell where the willow mint grows,
Where bluebells chime in the midnight hallows,
And bowers of may and honeyed suckle
Curtain the congress of loving couples
As paired collard doves are cooing in swoon
At this, the Marriage of the Sun and the Moon. 

The Peacock’s tail is a courtesan’s fan 
As he dances a slow Bharatanatyam.
The Rose on the Throne folds back her calyx
And releases her nectars into the Chalice
For the bee, so lustful ...and yet so tender
At her grace, at such sweet surrender. 

Deep in this Garden of Earthly Delights
Sleeps Beauty, sometime of the night,
Her perfumed lap that poets eulogise.
All the Love of the world is in Her eyes.
And there, the Serpent is rising once more
To fire up the ways and open the doors.

The Garden of Earthly Delights

The Dagda was the creator god of the Irish fairy race, the Tuatha Dé Danann, who, in Celtic myths, ejaculates into the River Boyne, dedicated to the goddess Boann. Here I combine this star metaphor with our growing knowledge about cymatics, and about how archaeologists discovered that the shapes of the shells of the fossils change all at once, at the beginning of every Vedic Age (25,772 years). 

Lyrics:

The Dagda stood, phallus firmly in hand 
One foot on Red Mountain, the other on Newgrange. 
While miles below him flowed the River Boyne 
And the pleasure boats of happy folk 
Oblivious to the existence of 
This giant of the Tuatha dé Danann, 
The creator god of their race. 

He was waiting for Her. 
He was waiting for Boann, 
He was waiting for Her Voice, 
As he had done, many times before, 
Over countless aeons... 

He was waiting for Her Voice, 
The love song that would sing into being 
The turning of the Ages, 
The command for the waves to change their shapes. 

Only He could hear Boann’s Voice, 
Only The Dagda’s ears were pure 
From the chattering white noise 
And seductive sirens’ spells 
That others were bound by. 
He had no interest in their words. 
To him they were just like 
The mating cries of hump-backed whales, 
A long way off in the distance. 

He wondered what she’d sound like, this time? 
What love song would She sing 
To build the new waves of the new Age? 
Then he heard it. He heard it... 

It was coming towards him on the wind. 

Suddenly her soft lips were on His ear, 
And she sang Her song 
Into the long, winding labyrinth 
That led to the serpents in His sack, 
Who instantly, at the sound, leapt up 
On fire, and whirling with desire 
To enflame Him with Her command, 
To send Her song to the waters, to the waves
And to the seas, to turn the Wheel of the Age. 
And He could hold back no longer. 

With a vast groan of ecstasy 
Tinged only with the agony of waiting, 
He released Boann’s love potion, 
Like a colossal creamy fountain, 
Into the flowing, glistening milky way 
Of Her river below. 

Lyrics and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
© Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, January 2024 
Music by Paul Foss
© Paul Foss, January 2024
Contact: paul@paulfossmusic.com

Cover art: Carina Nebula, a collosal stellar entity spanning 460 light years and emitting some of the most stunning formations of gas and dust in the Milky Way.

The Dagda

The first verse is all that remains to us of the oldest song in the world, written almost 2,000 years ago. Its words were inscribed on the tombstone of a Turkish woman by her husband Seikolos. 

While you live, shine 
have no grief at all  
life exists only for a short while 
and Time demands an end.

Here, I’ve composed my own version ... and I hope Seikolos would have approved! 

Lyrics and vocal Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, April 2024
© Copyright, all rights reserved, Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, April 2024

Music composed by Paul Foss
Contact email: paul@paulfossmusic.com
© Copyright, all rights reserved, Paul Foss, April 2024

Words: 

1.    While you live, shine! Have no grief at all.  Life exists only for a short while and the Reaper will soon demand his due.

 2.     While you thrive, don’t just survive. All the world’s a stage just waiting for you to realise that it’s time to play your part, under the spotlights of the stars. 

3.    While you breathe, believe in your true self and your sovereign right to liberty, guided by your own heart’s dreams and your inner knowingness.
 
4.     While you exist, insist on following your intuition - your inner tuition. It's in your gut. Those feelings are your tutors who will never lead you wrong. 

5.     While you stay, play! Meet your dragons with a smile. See that life is just a game and what’s more.... the ball is in your court, so what are you waiting for?

6. Use your power to flower. Your heart is a young bud, just waiting to bloom and ripen into your first fruits to take to your harvest home. 

7.    Then when you die, fly high ...through that final portal, giving thanks for all you’ve seen and dreamed into being, on Earth, as a mortal.

 8.    But ...while you live, shine. Life exists only for a flash in the eye, like a shooting star across the sky...and the Reaper will soon enough be along with his scythe.   

© Copyright, all rights reserved, Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, April 2024

While You Live, Shine!

This song is about the illusion of 'maya', aka the 'simulation', and about how only divine love or 'bhakti' can penetrate its veils or coding. 

Lyrics and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
Copyright © Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, May 2024, all rights reserved

Music by Paul Foss
Copyright © Paul Foss, May 2024, all rights reserved
Email: paul@paulfossmusic.com

Words:
You sent me the colours of a summer’s dawn 
On the morning of Solstice, last year. 
Wedding band gold and Bridie’s slipper pink,
Just one small, shy honeysuckle flower…
But it was enough to make your feelings clear. 

The bloom then faded, and it followed the Sun 
On its passage down to the Underworld, 
I looked every day, but no more have come. 
Yet your passion for me will last and last, 
For long after this life’s romance is done. 

You make love to me in every dimension, 
In every realm, but not, it seems, this one. 
I know you’re there, hiding in your creation 
Your love song, your maya simulation 
That masks you from the sight of my heart.
The juggler, the trickster, the mercurial mixer
Of this Venetian carnival’s Commedia Dell’arte. 

Sometimes you leave me tiny dew-drop diamonds 
To show you care, to show you’re really there 
In my night garden at dusk; then at midnight 
You come in my dreams to spirit me away
And up the stairway to paradise, 
To paradise … and your Divine Play.

Divine Commedia Dell'arte

A personal prayer. 

Words and vocals by Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
© Copyright, Annie Dieu-Le-Veut May 2024 

Music by Paul Foss
© Copyright, Paul Foss May 2024 
Email: paul@paulfossmusic.com 

Cover art: Me via AI. 

Words: 

It is the best of times; it is the worst of times.
It is an age in which great wisdom and love is unfolding in the hearts of many. 
It is an age of great folly in which fools are itching to trigger Armageddon.
It is an epoch of belief, but a belief in what?
When all the theology has been twisted to create division, 
When all the science has been hog-tied by a lack of vision
When the most vacuous weep with passion over trifling affairs
When governments are locked in endless games of musical chairs....

No. It is the best of times because it is when I found You
In the Seven Rishis, the Seven Rays,
The Seven Churches, the Seven Sages 
The Seven Chakras, the Seven Planets,
The Seven Sisters of the Pleiades 
And a star for every day of the week. 

It's the time when you showed me the coding of Your purpose,
And so now as I sit here in Your three-ringed circus, 
Watching mountains of lies towering to incredible heights, 
And the black-hearted judges of the kangaroo courts 
Threatening to tie us all up with red tape and torts
As they tread the crimson carpets of the corridors of power, 
Soaked in the blood of human shields and cannon fodder, 
The band of this Titanic is striking up with “We’ll Meet Again!”
And “There’ll be bluebirds over the white cliffs of Dover, 
Just you wait and see...”

And I can only wonder at a love so great to script this comedy
That pushed me to the edge, and beyond, to put into verse
How I’ve fallen,  once more, for your Beauty and Glory,
Found in every cell and atom of your multiverse.

Inspired by Charles Dickens A Tale of Two Cities.

On the Eve of the Apocalypse (a prayer)

Bard, storyteller, song maker, star walker and author of books on the sacred mysteries.

All the lyrics of my songs are written by me. I put them to music with A.I. and then I spin up the whole lot in the Magimix with samples and loops. I can't sing for toffee, so if you fall in love with a singer on one my tracks, it's likely to be a robot!  Just sayin'...😎

All my socials: https://hyperfollow.com/anniedieuleveut