What began as a collaboration with Debra Buesking has expanded to include the wonderful vocal talent of Paolo Pieraccini (@mayadog).  His singing, especially in Italian, gives the song a sweet, emotional intimacy and urgency.  A lovely honor to have him grace our song with his talent. Hear more fine music on his profile and Debbie's too @debra_buesking. 
Lyrics in Italian and English:
Dimmi dove sei
Torno a casa e non ti trovo più
Le tue calze sopra il letto
Sempre accesa la TV

Non dimentico
Le tue promesse in bilico
e le domeniche
Sempre spese solo dove decidi tu
Forse ho il cuore troppo piccolo
Per lasciarti la tua libertà
casca il mondo
quando te ne vai

Mille baci e poi
All’improvviso il vuoto fra di noi
Non so perché rimango appeso qui
Il tuo canto mi ha ingannato
e come Ulisse mi salverò
Ma poi ricadrò
nella tua tela ancora

Sei sparita ormai
irraggiungibile
ma è sicuro io ti troverò per dirti che
che non mi arrendo e voglio solo te
Puoi scommetterci
Vorrei sentire ancora i brividi
Mentre stringo la tua mano
per non lasciarti più
………………..
Chissà dove sei

Tell me where you are
I come home and I can't find you anymore
Your socks over the bed
Still on the TV

I do not forget
Your promises in the balance
and Sundays
Always spending only where you decide
Maybe my heart is too small
To leave you your freedom
the world falls
when are you leaving

A thousand kisses and then
Suddenly the void between us
I don't know why I'm hanging here
Your singing deceived me
and like Ulysses I will save myself
But then I'll fall back
in your web again

You're gone now
unattainable
but it's sure I'll find you to tell you that
that I'm not giving up and I just want you
you can bet
I wish I could still feel the chills
As I hold your hand
not to leave you anymore
……………… ..
Who knows where you are

Easy To Please (featuring Paolo; vocal) Debbie; Piano, David; Guitar

The track picture is a common sight in the canyons of Colorado, and probably all of the Rocky Mountain states.  The sun can be shining while driving in the canyon, but miles ahead there could have been a torrential rainstorm that triggered a flash flood and it is coming...quickly.  You literally have to abandon your vehicle and climb the canyon wall or get washed away.  
The sign and song are metaphorical as well.  When flash floods of circumstance happen in our lives, we must seek higher ground so as not to be washed away in the emotional maelstrom.  Such was the case with Pat and his cancer diagnosis twenty months ago, and with my good friend and collaborator Elmer Stone who unexpectedly lost his beloved wife Bonnie a few days ago.  They are seeking and finding higher ground in their faith, families, and friends.  
A big thank you to Pat for sending me the "ditty" a while back but recently rediscovered that serves as the "higher ground" in the song.

Climb To Higher Ground with Pat Howell, Mandolin (In honor of Pat Howell and Elmer Stone)

Released a few years ago in collaboration with Annie Smart, I found this live, improvisational version in the vault featuring ace guitarist Curtis Gremmel.  I love the bluesy vibe he brings to it with his in-the-moment and spot-on playing. Curtis is in the left channel, and I'm dutifully chording and keeping time center right.  Hope it brings a little sunshine to your day.  Thanks to Dreamstime for the great picture:)

Sunshine In the Rain (with Curtis Gremmel; lead acoustic guitar)

This is what happens when you let an ace producer get hold of a track; he transforms it:)  The song was originally dedicated to my son-in-law Marshall who is a law and order type of guy.  Special thanks to Seagull @farout-music-studio for taking what started as a jam session with superb guitarist Curtis Gremmel and elevated to celestial heights with a little help from Clara.  
An additional note: we just come to learn that "Space Marshals" was a popular video game eight years ago and apparently still is given the large number of listens.  I'm not a "gamer" but appreciate all who are who have given this music a listen:)

Space Marshal (Curtis, David, and Seagull)

Seasons change; as in weather, even more so in life, and if we're fortunate, we get one spin of the cycle.  Here is a little tune to celebrate those changes.

Change Of Season

Seagull surprised me with this lovely song as a gift for my 70th birthday, featuring his playing on acoustic guitar, and likening our friendship and musical comradery to a "walk in the morning dew".  I was beyond honored:)  Then the thought occurred to him, "what if Ed, Dan, Peter, and David joined me on my walk?"  Peter's words set the stage comparing our friendship (and lasting friendship in general) to fine gold "hewn from so much more than mere common ground"  Ed's gorgeous electric guitar defines the melody, Dan's synths and Clara's vocals add depth and emotion, and I get to decorate an already beautiful production in the left and right channels.  It is now a magnificent 70th birthday gift, enriched by my musical bond and friendship with these fine artists, and one I want to share with you dear listener.  Be blessed as you walk with us "in the morning dew":) 
More of their amazing music can be found here:
Seagull: @farout-music-studio
Peter: soundcloud.com/user-264930040/tracks
Dan-DT: @dan-t-3
Ed Cunningham: @westtracksmusic
Seagull has also created a lovely video to celebrate our walk together and invite you to join us there: www.youtube.com/watch?v=eDbapIXADdg
Peter's introductory poem:
A tempered bond of ether gold forged from trust in seeming kin
Blenched of ore hewn from so much more than mere common ground
Metallicised, a like of kind that cannot tarnish, ne’er to rust, it’s strength, atomic, set within
And so my grateful thoughts are due, my friend, to you, as one where empathy is ever found
To crystallise a state of mind as if from walks in morning dew as bright new days begin.

A Walk In Morning Dew (Seagull, Ed Cunningham, Dan-DT, Peter, and David)

Pulled from the archives, Julie Evans brings the Blues to her exquisite violin playing in this cover of the famous Arthur Hamilton song.  I had the privilege of backing her up with acoustic guitar and bass.  Remastered from a cassette tape recorded in 1997.  Thanks to Harvey Twyman for bringing our cover to mind with his own recent and very fine cover @harvey-twyman.

Cry Me A River (Arthur Hamilton) Julie Evans; violin, David; Guitar, Bass

Celtic music is a paradox; in a minor key such as this piece, it tends to be melancholy, yet in its melancholia it can lift the spirit to heavenly realms where noble and reflective thoughts reside.  It is Debbie's and mine fondest hope this Lament lifts your spirits:) A huge thank you to Debbie for gracing this piece with her playing. Hear more of her beautiful music @debra_buesking.

Celtic Lament (Debra Buesking; Piano and Synths, David; Guitar)

The fourth song of our summer series "We Can Solve Most Things If We Talk" is a hymn to Hope.  It is the enduring attribute of mankind to be able to think beyond the most painful circumstances and imagine a better life and a better world.  Peter is not just a fine writer of melody and lyrics, but a very able and eloquent guitarist and vocalist.  Oddrun graces this song with her angelic voice as if she were Hope itself, and in duet they give the song wings.  Seagull's synths, bass, and mix are ever sure and seamless, a true labor of love.
Music, Lyrics, Guitars & Vocals; Our dear poet Peter, soundcloud.com/user-264930040/tracks
Vocals; Soundcloud's most wonderful voice; Oddrun, @oddrun-eikli
Compilation and mix by visionary producer; Seagull, @farout-music-studio

Will you Raise Your Right Hand?

Peter
Can you number the circle’s rim, each point on a list?
Enumerate the air, simply cupping of your hands
Freedom lantern’s falling dim in honesty’s fading mist
But will you raise your right hand, when hope makes its stand?

Oddrun
Can you census the clouds, in a ledger of the sky
Set out in a single line each and every grain of sand
When the despot weaves his thieving lies will you stand idly by
Or will you raise your right hand, when hope makes its stand?

Peter & Oddrun
Can you audit every atom, in a volume for the shelf
Each uniquely named, indexed on demand
Does the mirror only fathom, a shallow of your self
Or will you raise your right hand, when hope makes its stand?

Oddrun & Peter
Can you detail every shimmered light on a canvas of the stars
A snapshot of the cosmos as at light speed it expands
Will you document but passive shame in the volumes of your pale memoirs
Or will you raise your right hand, when hope makes its stand?

Oddrun & Peter
Can you hoist the flag of humankind above the crass material world
Crush the armies of greed, their legions to disband
When the shining banner of grace is finally unfurled
Did you raise your right hand, when hope made its stand?

Hopeful Man--Will You Raise Your Right Hand (Peter, Oddrun, and Seagull)

We conclude our Summer Series on a hopeful note and a glimpse into the future.  Mankind has finally found that it can accept the differences that divide us, share the bounty between us, and become a vast community governed by faith, hope, and love. How did such a thing come about?  We collectively took a step back from the brink of self-annihilation by realizing "we solve most things if we talk".  
Ironically, this was the most complex song of the five to put together,  We all had an idea of how we wanted it to turn out, and thanks to Seagull and a lot of talking between us behind the scenes, we came to consensus and a final version.  Our little band is proof "we can solve most things if we talk":)  It has been an honor to work with each of you: 
Music composition, 1st guitar (center), bass, synths, mix and production; Seagull, @farout-music-studio
Right & Left Guitar; Our wonderful guitarist; David, @david-dunhamuser589535203
Lyrics & Vocals; Our dear poet Peter, soundcloud.com/user-264930040/tracks
Vocals and harmonies; Soundcloud's most wonderful voice; Oddrun, @oddrun-eikli
And the key phrase at the end; The lovely little Finley, 7 years old.

We Solve Most Things If We Talk

Summer rain finds my face, splashing through my smile
Thunder rumbles fall away, storm is phasing through
Peace of mind is on the case, misery is in denial,
Yesterday’s squally day, tomorrow’s skies are azure blue.

Dreams of history’s tension gladly start to ease
Gripping claws of lunacy finally shun the past
Seems things turned out badly for hunger and disease
Slipping towards unity, laying down the guns at last.

Call my neighbour as my friend, our meanings line as one
Colour, gods and politics accepted as they are
Mutualities to defend no conflict clouds our shining sun
Consideration and respect, a communal repertoire

Mother Mary called today
Handed me a flower stalk
Kissed my worries clean away
We solve most things if we talk.

Need as might we understand equality’s a bed of lies
Celebrate uniqueness as a cast of human thread
Day and night, hand in hand, no polity compromise
Learning from our weakness past, focused on the light ahead.

Mother Mary spoke today
Led me on a learning walk
Eased my troubles on the way
We solve most things if we talk.

Mother Mary sang today
Left me with a simple thought
The wisest heads will simply say
We solve most things if we talk.
"We Solve Most Things If We Talk"

Contented Man (Seagull, Oddrun, Peter, David)

What a delightful surprise to be invited to collaborate with fine Italian composer and producer Michele Ansani.  His work is both penetrating and reflective as he provides a musical canvas for spoken verse. 
The words recited by me are verses from one of the most famous poems by one of the greatest Italian poets of the 20th century, Eugenio Montale. They are taken from the collection entitled ‘Ossi di seppia’ ('The Bones of Cuttlefish'), published in Italy in 1925, and several times translated into English (alone or together with other works by Montale).
One is first struck by the movements between minor and major keys.  It mirrors the soul caught between hope and despair sometimes in the same moment.  The conflict is not new being as old as mankind, but with the prevalence of social media, it gains a spotlight as never before.
Lyrics by Eugenio Montale
Music, piano, and electronic strings by Michele Ansani
Voice and acoustic guitar: David Dunham
Photo by Peter Zajfrid, "Moody Morning"
Please visit Michele's excellent profile; @soundcloud.com/michele-ansani

Lyrics (ENGLISH / ORIGINAL ITALIAN)
Perhaps one morning going alone in the air of glass,
Arid, looking back, I shall see, with the terror
Of a drunken man, the making of a miracle:
Nothingness at my shoulders, the void behind me.

Then as on a screen, suddenly, trees, houses, hills
Will assemble themselves for the usual deception.
But it will be too late; and I shall go on, quiet,
With my secret, among the men who do not turn.

Forse un mattino andando in un’aria di vetro,
arida, rivolgendomi, vedrò compirsi il miracolo:
il nulla alle mie spalle, il vuoto dietro
di me, con un terrore di ubriaco.

Poi come s’uno schermo, s’accamperanno di gitto
alberi case colli per l’inganno consueto.
Ma sarà troppo tardi; ed io me ne andrò zitto
tra gli uomini che non si voltano, col mio segreto.

Perhaps One Morning (M. Ansani, D. Dunham)

I see him each morning, hair askew, face needing to be mowed with an electric razor, a face wrinkled and weathered by experience and decisions good and bad.  None the less, I am thankful he is looking back at me; I'm still alive and thankful to have another day.  
Peter's poetic meditation begins like a prayer and becomes deeply introspective into how life has changed the man looking back at him.  His initial inspiration was Arvo Part's "Spiegel im Spiegel" but for this reflective journey, he asked pianist Debra Buesking to accompany him which she does  with great feeling and eloquence.  I come into the picture as the one invited to bring them together for a memorable moment, a great honor and a labor of love for two of my favorite Soundcloud artists.  More of Peter's thoughtful music and spoken word can be found @https://soundcloud.com/user-264930040/tracks, and more of Debbie's beautiful playing can be found @debra_buesking.

Some Words for Mr. Part:

Dear God, just look at the state of you - what the hell happened?
Did time do that all by itself?
Chiselled and scraped with gentle, temporal strength?
Yesterdays now patterned well with telling tales of wear and tear.
Always took such good care that you ticked every health kick box
But all the ticks collect their tocks, bundling up the time we thought was
dangling spare.
And wrinkly skin comes out to play, crafting plots with crumpled neurons
badly frayed, and
Liver spots about the edges worn of happy recollections,
Waltzed away, invisible to the swinging of that penduled clock.
Take your eyes off it for just a minute and you’ve lost a day,
And then a decade’s worth of wry reflections,
Lovingly to fold them up and let them lie in memory’s pocket.
Those lines that contour of your brow, a biography of creases now
And all cut down so very deep.
Each epidermal void crevasse life’s stylus tracks a scratching past
Evinces of a record no mortal hard re-format could delete.
And of your eyes, sallow yellowed at the margins, framed by corvid feet
Rigid-set to well outlast whatever bargained span of life your good Lord
deems replete.
As if your face lampoons of age itself, wrecked and bent
Of scars that trace minutiae, carved in master sculptors’ stone
And none too soon, for just that task and that alone, recording compressed
of the past..
We both know well which ones are smiles and which the pain that heaven
sent,
The former few, soft of the flesh, the many others sunk unto the very bone,
The harshest welt of any sole upon the universal cobbler’s last.
But does it help to so reflect, or but to hurry time’s neglect?
Of such consideration circles wrapped in worry tearing down
All edifice of self respect, the towering pit of pity comes once more to town,
Parades a circus fine of talents, self deprecating jestered clowns
And galloping horses all the while stampede about the rounded ropes
Vespered peace forever sought, just out of reach, concedes of futile, now
confounded hopes.
So what of forward self projection, folding the creases back behind
And out of sight to speculation on future solaced peace of mind?
Perhaps again the crashing wall of fast reality, solid bricked
Determines upward focus but to fall, as if to gravity’s grounded truth
Tricked of consequential solitude, rimed of age, aching of the aged sick
No respite there nor rectitude as once you found in torrid youth.
But perhaps I’m speaking out of turn and out of place,
For though your memories sear and burn as if to carbonise some
worthwhile trace of validity
On that unholy visage lit by lives lived long before….
It matters not and changes nought, not a jot nor yet a thought
For you and I know better than to seek a settled score from comment fair
After all, you are I, staring back at me from the mirror mounted there.

Inspired By Mr. Pärt's "Spiegels" (Peter, Debra Buesking, David; final production)

I wrote this forty years ago as part of the "Scenes of St. Francis" small-town song anthology and thought it might be fun to post as fall is winding down but before the Christmas season gets into full swing.  St. Francis, Kansas is a little prairie town nestled in a shallow river valley and has an abundance of trees, mostly cottonwoods, but a few hardwoods that stand out especially in the fall. And with the trees was an abundance of squirrels always playing chase or hide and seek when they weren't getting into mischief.  They needed a song, and with my daughters being so young, I wanted to make it in the form of a children's song that they could sing along to.  As adult women, they still like to sing along when they hear it which is a good thing since my own singing voice has largely depleted with age.  But it is a nice reminder that once upon a time I could sing:) Rescued and remixed from an old but faithful cassette tape.

Squirrel Song lyrics:
Hop, skip, and jump, and away they go,
Haven't got a care in the world.
Playing hide and seek 'round an old tree trunk,
I'm talking 'bout my friend the squirrel.

Gathering nuts is a way of life,
But even they know when to play,
And though winter's coming before too long,
They still live life day by day.
Chorus:
Just let their antics entertain you,
From a high-wire act to a tree-top stunt or two,
There's not a dull moment when you see them around,
There's fun wherever they're found.

Instrumental hums then repeat chorus

Hop, skip, and jump, and away they go,
They have something we need to learn;
That a happy life is made of work and play
When each one gets a turn.

Squirrel Song (from Scenes of St. Francis)

Between writing sermons as a small-town pastor, I was also engaged in writing songs, some you have heard in my "Scenes of St. Francis". This particular song came to me after reading an article about love and marriage--ministers do a lot of reading for sermon preparation--but this one knocked me a bit sideways.  Turns out men on average will fall in love between five and seven times before meeting their wife, and then 1-1/2 times afterward!  This song is about the 1-1/2 times afterward, a little different kind of love song for Valentine's Day. 
I have sat on the text and melody for over forty years but thought I better do something before time overtook it as it had overtaken my singing voice.  I heard Axel sing in his magnificent song with Sarah Paradise-Brown "What We Still Feel" and felt he could give the song the vocal it needed, an international voice of "everyman".  When he received the guitar parts he set to work on it and gave the song a stunningly beautiful orchestral setting as well.  Thank you dear Axel for lavishing your vocal and orchestral skills on a song that needed both. I am deeply honored and indebted.  Hear more of Axel's beautiful music @axel-m-501052973.
"Faithful and True" lyrics:

I recall the day I said "I do",
I never thought that I could love anyone
Like I love you,
But of late I'm really not so sure
That the promises we made can hold
Us together as we both grow older
With each day.
Is it possible for love to endure?
Chorus:
But I've made up my mind.
I've made my choice,
This feeling will pass but never the voice,
That tells me I must remain,
Faithful and true.

Bridge:
It doesn't stop the pain of admitting what can never be,
But if love has any meaning it is found in trust,
And not in what we feel.

Instrumental break...

Repeat bridge:

There's a sadness as I say farewell
To a love that promised more than I could ever tell,
Or at least that is the way it seemed
To a man who found himself in love
With another 'till he counted the cost of fantasy.
It was more than he ever dreamed.

Repeat chorus and end.

Faithful And True (David Dunham with Axel Menningen)

Rain...too little of it and there is drought, too much of it and there are deadly, destructive floods, just the right amount and the earth flourishes; crops grow, gardens bloom, our spirits are refreshed and encouraged.  This song begs the questions; are mankind's plans, philosophies, charitable endeavors, or selfish goals like the rain that can benefit mankind or destroy it?  Do novel ideas work for the moral structure of humanity or is the ancient wisdom better? There are no easy answers to the questions Peter asks in the lyrics, but they are questions we should consider as we see the world aflame--which is another blessing of rain, it can put out fires.
Lyric/poem, singing and narration - Peter The Poet: @ soundcloud.com/user-264930040/tracks
Beautiful guitars left/right - David: @david-dunhamuser589535203
Music, e-guitar, mix, and masterful production - Seagull: @farout-music-studio
The gorgeous female voice: Clara Sorace.

Rain
And so it rains
Will it wash away tomorrow’s hopes,
Leave us stranded in our yesterdays
Clinging to the fraying ropes
Swinging helplessly in vain

And yet it rains
Both the means to life or drowning death
Spilling ‘cross the flooding plains
Sucking out the terminal breath
Forever and again

I stand here naked, cold and blue
Stripped of pride and freedom too
Aspirations drained, subdued
As heaven’s cloudbursts purge me through

And still it rains
Will it cleanse, refresh, renew the truth
Sanitise and ease the pain
Or launder filthy failure’s proof
To try and hide the liar’s stain

And it will rain
While lunatics still yield the whip
Indoctrination’s game remains
The crass politico’s iron grip
Will euthanise our children’s brains

……and so it rains

Rain (with Conny, Peter And David)

Now into my seventh decade of living, and celebrating my fiftieth anniversary this month as a guitar player (I should play better than do;), I wanted to drop this "little ditty" as my attempt to keep up with the likes of Bill Liggett (@soundcloud.com/greenfleamusic/tracks) and other notable players on this fine platform.  Actually it's an attempt to keep up with myself, seeing if I can still play what I learned 40-plus years ago, in the case of this song, the introductory licks I learned from a very fine Kansas City lounge musician, Mark Bell in 1979.  For those keeping score, you may remember it from the song "This Motel Room" by Jimmy Buffet--a fun and clever song that details the many nights touring musicians have to endure staying in motel rooms.  I took the initial licks heard throughout the song and built an independent melody line around it, half blues ditty, half musical joke, with a serious moment (you know I have to have one of those:), all with the hope of bringing a smile.  I'm proud to say I can still play it, and maybe, just maybe a little better now than then:)  Bill, just don't ask me to play it live;)

A Little Ditty (David, solo guitar)

March is such a "two-faced" month in the northern latitudes, it can caress with a kiss of sunlit warmth, or slap the face with high winds and freezing temperatures--maybe in the same day!  It is so fickle these "ides of March" which Shakespeare told us to beware of.  The mood and playing of this song came upon me like one of those Ides, riffing on something much more mellow, when I randomly strummed an E major chord, then again with more force, then faster, stronger...I had to capture the moment, but like March weather, you can't be angry all the time, and so the caress of the Cordoba nylon. You might ask what the mellow riffing sounded like I was first practicing on--wait for it:)

Two-Faced (An Ode to March)  David Dunham, Acoustic Guitars

It seems that each season has its own "perfume of mystery".  In a typical Texas panhandle spring, it is Lilac and Russian Olive that perfume the air.  In the deep South, Magnolias are hypnotically fragrant.  In summer it is the fresh, petrichor air after a rainstorm, or a newly-mown field of hay.  In the fall there is a pungency of fallen leaves as they are raked into piles, and as the days grow cooler, smoke from a fireplace during an evening walk. It is an odor that grows stronger and crisper as winter sets in and the sweet scent of pine with the setting up of Christmas trees.  Dan wanted to capture this "perfume of mystery" with his unique composing and keyboard skills and invited me to come along. Thank you my friend for inviting me.  Hear more of Dan's beautiful and unique "French Fantasy" music @dan-t-3.

Like A Perfume Of Mystery (DAN-DT; composer, keyboards, David; guitars)

I wrote this song 15 years ago for close friend and guitarist Elmer Stone. Elmer and I have collaborated on three songs on Soundcloud but this one is purely a tribute to him and the friendship we have shared for the past thirty-plus years.  It is also a memorial for his wife Bonnie who he lost two years ago. She was a core contributor to his music, life partner, and his best friend.
I am indebted to Mike Fox and Axel Meningen for taking my rough demo of the song and making it a broadcast quality production.  Thank you gentlemen for your time, talents, and belief that the song could be more than I could ever make it on my own.  Hear more of their amazing music @michael-fox-925325997 and @axel-m-501052973  
Good Ol' Boy
Lyrics:
He's a good ol' boy with his good ol' toys,
He likes a beer now and then.
He picks a guitar and dreams of going far,
Don't know the how, or the where, or the when.
The boys in the band play as hard as they can.
And they hitch their wagon to the star,
Of this good ol' boy, this good ol' boy.

He keeps house with his wife, the love of his life,
The kids are all grown and gone.
By the gray in his hair you can tell he still cares
'bout the things that are right and wrong.
And the question comes does it get better than this,
A hard days work and a goodnight kiss,
For this good ol' boy, this good ol' boy.

Bridge:
Well it hasn't been easy, no it's never been easy
But he keeps on keepin' on.
And what hasn't killed him he finds a way
To put into a song, 'bout this good ol' boy
This good ol' boy.

Instrumental break, repeat bridge.

He's a good ol' boy with his share of joys,
And his share of the cares of this world.
When it's all said and done, and his race has been run,
And he rests in the arms of the Lord
Of this good ol' boy, this good ol' boy.
Instrumental to the end.

Good Ol' Boy (Mike, Axel, David)

The long anticipated;) follow up has arrived.  I begin the song with a brief reprise of "Two Faced" to set the stage.  After the cold and bluster of March, the gentleness of spring and early summer is felt with a walk in the park.
Thank you all for the overwhelming response to my ode to March and especially the interest shown in the little teaser, epilogue now a more complete thought.  As they say, "take time to smell the flowers":)

A Walk In The Park (David, acoustic guitars)

What happens if "Dust In the Wind" meets "Classical Gas"?  I sought to answer that profound question one morning when I was riffing on an A-minor chord and couldn't think of another way to describe this acoustic concoction. I couldn't think of a better name for it either, but seemed to have a "ballad" feel to it, either about a hero or villain, I'll let you decide, and maybe catch a "catnap" thinking about it:)

Ballad For Acoustic Guitar

I think of some of the "old timers" that have influenced my life especially when I was a younger man, the stories they shared, the wisdom in those stories if I listened closely, and most sobering, that I'm an old timer myself now.  This song is a bit of a musical portrait of encountering an old timer at a small-town diner and enjoying a bit of food and conversation.  Joining me in this visit is ace pianist and valued collaborator Debra Buesking.  As always, her playing enriches and informs my playing and is totally sympathetic to the theme.  Thank you dear friend for sharing this special musical moment.  Hear more of Debbie's superb composing and playing @debra_buesking. Thanks to George Motz Photography for the track picture.

On a personal note, I appreciate all of you that reached out to me upon hearing about the devastating flood in central Texas that swept away many lives and much property.  It was a worst case scenario happening on one of the busiest weekends of the year.  Amarillo stayed high and dry during the event, but all of us were touched, as was the whole world, upon hearing of the tragedy.  Please continue to keep them in your thoughts and prayers.

Old Timer at the Diner (Debbie Buesking; piano, David; acoustic guitar)

Proud to announce my first collaboration with folk string artist extraordinaire Don Jennings.  Don establishes the feel of the song with his strong rhythm strumming--almost the feel of a Celtic stomp, trying to get the mud off one's boots, but allows me plenty of space for my Requinto guitar that sounds a little like a mandolin in the center-left channel.  It is fun music, at least until you have to get the mud off your own boots;)  Hear more of Don's truly fine acoustic artistry @https://soundcloud.com/user-399104119

The Muddy March (Don Jennings; acoustic guitar, David; Requinto guitar)

She is an icon of folk music, she played her guitar upside down and backwards, and she served Don a fried chicken dinner when he got an opportunity to meet her in her home in Alexandria, Va.  In return he tried to teach her the Gary Davis tune "Candyman".  Don's roots run deep in folk music, not in just his knowledge of the genre, not just in the vintage instruments he owns and plays with deft skill, but in having encountered the artists themselves in live and personal settings.  His Cloud is full of his wonderful melodies and fine performances @https://soundcloud.com/user-399104119
We continue our "front porch jam" by covering "Libba" Cotten's cherished tune; I play the main melody on an Ibenez OM guitar, Don joins in with his Washburn parlor, Gibson mandolin, and a dulcimer tuned to C--a string band to be sure;)
Thanks also to Debra Buesking for her personal request that I attempt a cover of the song that got the ball rolling.

Freight Train (Elizabeth Cotten cover) Don Jennings, David Dunham

Our little band has been busy over the summer months working on songs for a fall release.  This is perhaps one of the more spiritually-centered songs we have written and published.  How responsible are we for the evil that has come upon the world, for the resultant suffering it has brought. Peter's beautiful words begin with an act of redemption for mankind, but end with judgement not by God's choice, but man's will. 
The words did not come easily as Peter confesses that his pen "hovered above the last line for several minutes" not wanting to write it, but with a prophet's conviction, knew it must be written. The question is begged by those who will to believe, does the beauty of God's creation also involve justice and judgement, what Luther called "God's alien work"?  
Peter's verse has never been more poignant or Seagull's production more finely crafted. His track note also offers further insight into our thinking on the song and is well worth reading.
Guitars left & right; David Dunham; @david-dunhamuser589535203
Superb Poetry/Lyrics, Narration; Peter the Poet; soundcloud.com/user-264930040/tracks
Music, superb Mix & Production, Seagull; @farout-music-studio
Wonderful voice - Clara Sorace

Web of Circles

…and place the host upon my tongue
as his grace, the bishop did, when I was young
to set life's path as angels sung
since when I've tracked an arcing line
my cracked heart marinades in altar wine
as webbed circles on repeat define
…
……the mirrored threads within my mind.

…and carbon copies as before
in mobius time reflect the score
while catastrophes gorge today once more
identikits forged on command from yesterday
nothing learned, just press replay
and watch heads in hands as the people pray
…
……for the pendulum to swing the other way

…and certain as the wheeling orbit's path
history founders on future’s aftermath
to sin once more as lucifer belly laughs
run aground we last forget that sacred host
‘neath chancel’s hell he resurrects what aches the most
humanity self-lashed to eternity’s whipping post
…
……by the Father, Son and Holy Ghost

Web of Circles (Seagull, Peter, and David)

Years ago, my brothers and I had spent several weeks getting my dad's house ready to sell after he had passed. I was in the realtor's office ready to sign the paper work when the prospective buyers asked why I wasn't buying the house I grew up in.  I said (not thinking) "Too many ghosts".  The realtor immediately jumped in and said, "he means memories" to which I smiled confirming the needed clarification:)  It does beg the question however, how many "ghosts" haunt our lives; bad decisions, fractured relationships, things we did or failed to do.  I have found hope and forgiveness in the Christian faith, others have found healing in the passing of time, others still carry a heavy burden of what could have been or should have been.  Peter explores the theme in poignant verse to Seagull's quixotic soundtrack.  I am honored to  contribute a few colors to the tapestry;)
Acoustic guitars left & right; David Dunham; @david-dunhamuser589535203
Superb Poetry/Lyrics, Narration; Peter the Poet; soundcloud.com/user-264930040/tracks
Master of the music, lead guitar solo, mix & production;  Seagull @farout-music-studio
Wonderful voice: Clara Sorace
Track art: Bing images
Ghost of a Sense:

Yes, I know you.
I can feel your presence.
I can touch you, smell you.
I see you not by sight of eye
And yet I ken that you are I
That vespered wraith that writhes within
To test my faith, try my sin
Push the bounds to cause offence
A moral, soul thing, ghost of a sense recalls myself, so well defined
Entrenched, walls behind, built so sound of dust that crowned the pity, falling soft amiss,
Deep inside the tears I cry as here I find my self-abyss.

Whispers bringing shadows, filled of secrets therein held,
Memories, morose, piece me still, to wear in time, my wasted face.
And now reside, cast aside, to forge and ever meld,
Of haunting, ringing echoes, that will alone their chime erased.

Ah! But you won't twist me, nor bind me fast, to the sandy doctrines of the misty past,
With its beards and staffs and crinkled testaments.
My future's sprinkled here present with your crass irrelevance and matters not that sat right there,
The blackest chasm in my simpling world so spare,
Where space and time have overspilled the leaking psyche of a crippled mind,
That barely copes, unfulfilled, a crooked, limpid moral health of broken shrines
That hopes to find ....
.......some worthwhile inner self.

Ghost of a Sence (Seagull, Peter, David)

I had left the pastorate in 1985 but many friends remained in the little town of St. Francis, Kansas.  One of them was a woman who found love again after the death of her spouse.  I composed this song for them and officiated their wedding and as far as I know, they lived happily ever after.  
Then came the wedding of my oldest daughter and she requested the song be done for her and Thor (yes, his real name;) That was 27 years ago.  
This past summer, I had suggested the song to Axel and after hearing my rough, 35 year old demo, he loved the song straight away, but wanted to change it up a bit.  The song I had written was done in a more devotional 4/4 meter, he wanted to bring to it the flavor of a Celtic dance.  Enter Mike Fox who gives the lyrics a definitive voice and excellent guitar to the backing track.  I loved the track art Axel had created because it resembled the wedding of my 2nd granddaughter Grace at the end of September, a lovely garden ceremony in Oklahoma City.  It resembles it right down to the kilt another son-in-law wore by request.  They didn't use the song as part of their ceremony, but I dedicate this new version to Grace and Ethan and wish them a lifetime of love, happiness and fond adventures together.
Thank you Axel and Mike for lavishing your talents on my songwriting efforts.  I am truly honored.  Hear more of their fabulous music creativity @soundcloud.com/axel-m-501052973, and @soundcloud.com/michael-fox-925325997

Gathered--Lyrics:
 What are we gathered here for, what have we come to see?
Two people who believe that a better life
Is lived together not separately.
Father we ask you blessing upon the union of these two,
That the vows they are both confessing
Will bind their hearts to each other and You.

Bridge:
And it's more than just "tying a knot" and it's more than just getting "hitched"
We're seeing two hearts being sewn together,
We're witnessing it stitch by stitch.
It's the miracle of seeing two become one,
Though the two are really not the same,
Like the paint and the canvas are separate until 
The Artist joins them in a beautiful frame.

Instrumental Interlude

Repeat Bridge

Repeat Verse:
What are we gathered here for, what have we come to see?
Two people who believe that a better life
Is lived together not separately.
Father we ask you blessing upon the union of these two,
That the vows they are both confessing
Will bind their hearts to each other and You.
Will bind their hearts to each other and You
Will bind their hearts to each other and You.

Gathered-A Wedding Song (Axel Menningen, Mike Fox, David Dunham)

Peter and Seagull reflect on what could happen, but has not happened yet, and I pray never happens if humanity ceases to be human.  The headlines would tell us we are near the brink, but daily life and interactions with everyday people tell a different story.  Hope abounds when helping hands are present, there is plenty to go around when the plenty is shared, and forgiveness can heal the deepest wounds.  None of it is easy and there are no easy answers and great effort may be required, but infinitely preferable to the despair depicted in Peter's sobering lyric poetry.  The bottom line for me is; keep the faith, with God and with each other.

Music, Mix, Production, beautiful lead guitar - Seagull; @farout-music-studio
Superb Poetry/Lyrics, Narration; Peter the Poet; soundcloud.com/user-264930040/tracks
Acoustic guitars left & right - David; @david-dunhamuser589535203
Wonderful voice - Clara Sorace

Deep Inside

When your broken moral compass assaults his eternal soul
When folk apportion token fault upon what little faith I hold
When humanity has knifed itself, and hope bleeds from infernal holes
When night's arrival, day concedes, its warmth displaced by bitter Cold

When evolution's vanities lie buried deep in fossil earth
When pagan rite insanities, render cheap, their measly worth
When any good God's lessons die 'neath cloven crackled mirth
When children' hearts bear tender fear from the very instance of their birth

When the simplest of kindnesses stands blatantly denied
When respect for fellow mortal lands gutter-bound, cast aside
When the spyglass is inverted to inspect what’s deep inside
When the court of civil fortitude finds us guilty as described

When the very least of all is but the best that can be done
When portends toss and nightmares turn, and grace is on the run
When you, my friend must burn your shame, face the shadows of our sun
Then all is lost, accept the blame, for hell on earth has just begun.

Deep Inside (Seagull, Peter, David, Clara)

Longtime friend Clint Culwell and I got together to practice and record some of his songs and covers, and jam a little as well.  Out of the session came this little gem, a unique, slightly reggae take on a traditional favorite.  Clint is left center on vocal and nylon string guitar; I am right center doing some ornamenting on steel sting guitar and playing bass. For more music from Clint check out his Cloud @Clint-Culwell.

Wayfaring Stranger (Clint Culwell;  guitar, vocal, David Dunham; guitar, bass)

With all that's going on, sometimes the heart just wants to flee to a place of innocence. Maybe we could meet there...

Return To Innocence

I am a finger-style guitarist living on the Texas high plains.  At the core of my music is melody that is inspired and informed by my Christian faith, family, friends, and countless influences through the years from the great composers, to jazz, folk, rock, Latin, Celtic, and the many fine musicians I have come to love on the Cloud, some I have been privileged to collaborate with.  Thanks for stopping by to have a listen. Comments are always welcome. Feel free to click on the picture of any track to learn more about it.

David Dunham

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