Songs From My Pocket

A quiet moment of rediscovery, born from collaboration and catharsis. This soft piano ballad was co-written with my AI muse. A song for anyone who's ever gone looking for themselves—and found home in a melody.

Where I Found My Soul

Some moments are so bright, they border on absurd. This song was born from that beautiful absurdity—one part puddle jump, one part cosmic joke, all heart. ‘The Ridiculous Joy’ is the sound of surviving and then laughing about it later. For those who’ve cried in the car, but danced in the rain.

The Ridiculous Joy

This is the song for every time I made a grand exit… and a sheepish return. For every time I judged, then joined. For every “I would never” that became a “well, maybe.” “Call Me Hypocritical” isn’t an apology—it’s a rhythm. Sometimes I storm out with righteous thunder, only to moonwalk back in with jazz hands and a grin. Healing’s messy. Growth is clumsy. But at least I’ve got rhythm.

Call Me Hypocritcal

"Jelly Jar Heart" is a tender ballad steeped in longing and love—a mother’s quiet vigil as she waits for her son to fly home from overseas. It’s the story of a heart preserved like summer jam: fragile, enduring, and sealed with care. With its porchlight simplicity and kitchen-table truth, this song captures the ache of distance, the warmth of memory, and the hope packed in every jar of something homemade.

Jelly Jar Heart

No Slot for My Song

This song is a quiet revelation.
Not What I Was Told was inspired by a friend’s journey across borders and expectations—only to find unexpected kindness, stillness, and light. It’s a meditation on what we’re warned about… and what we actually find when we walk the world with open eyes.

Through poetic lyrics and gentle melody, this song reminds us that beauty lives in the folds of time, and that truth often whispers where fear once shouted.

Not What I Was Told

After a brush with espionage and ear drops, one woman discovers that hearing clearly comes with consequences. Because when the wax is gone… the truth rings loud.

No Wax In My Ears

The Girl Who Faded is a tender ballad about invisibility, survival, and quiet strength. It’s a song for anyone who has ever retreated into silence—not from weakness, but to survive. Gentle, haunting, and deeply human, this track honors the soft ghosts within us who still long to be seen.

The Girl Who Faded

A tongue-in-cheek anthem for the emotionally exhausted. Part playground rhyme, part grown-up declaration of boundaries, this track calls out the ghosters, gaslighters, and guilt-passers with wit, rhythm, and a raised eyebrow. Perfect for anyone who's ever said, “I’m not playing this game anymore.”

Emotional Tag Is Not a Sport I Play Anymore

A witchy folk ballad for the Summer Solstice, Circle of Fire and Bloom celebrates the longest day of the year with herbs, firelight, and a touch of enchantment. This song turns the wheel of the year with reverence and rhythm—honoring the bloom, the burn, and the quiet magic in between.

Let your bare feet find the beat, and may the sun crown your spirit with gold.

Circle of Fire and Bloom

“Moonshine Lullaby” is a love song wrapped in moonlight—an original lullaby inspired by the gentle spirit of Sweet Baby James and the timeless charm of Shine On, Harvest Moon.
Sung from a mother to her baby boy—and later, to the man he becomes—it carries memory, melody, and moonlit tenderness across the years.

Moonshine Lullaby

A sly wink to all of us who’ve ever bluffed our way through a conversation with 80% charm and 20% Wikipedia. This cheeky folk-pop tune is an ode to accidental know-it-alls, persuasive nonsense, and the fine art of sounding smarter than we are. File under “fact-ish.” Perfect for brunches, debates, and shower TED Talks.

Certified Expert (in Things I Just Googled)


"We Show Up" is a folk protest anthem for the people who keep showing up—rain or shine, online or in person, in quiet acts of courage and collective song. Rooted in the spirit of Pete Seeger and Joan Baez, this acoustic piece calls us to remember that change doesn’t wait for permission—it begins with presence. Sing it in the streets, on the picket line, or in your living room. This song is for you.

We Show Up

Tired of the world shouting in regular old surround sound?
Introducing: Selective Hearing (Rose-Colored Ears) — the soothing soundtrack to your peaceful mental retreat.
Side effects may include daydreaming, humming in checkout lines, and involuntary optimism.
🎶 Now streaming for those who prefer their reality... lightly filtered.

Selective Hearing (Rose-Colored Ears)

This song was born in the eye of a mental weather map, where pressure systems of perfectionism collide with the front lines of fatigue. 

The Shouldstorm

A one-job morning turned epic saga. This tongue-in-cheek anthem captures the surreal horror of trying to activate a credit card through an endless maze of robotic prompts and hold music. Equal parts comedy and customer service therapy, this track is for anyone who’s ever yelled “REPRESENTATIVE!” into the void.

Press 1 to cry-5

I didn’t understand the tech world, but I understood the heart behind it. And I used those tools. I learned to make little bridges between what I knew and what I dreamed. This song is dedicated to hgw who came and asked for nothing back

Renaissance

A heartfelt folk ballad about love that outlasts disagreement, The Table’s Still Set extends a hand across the divide. Written for those navigating silence with someone they once laughed beside, this song is a gentle offering of reconnection — no debate required, just a place at the table. Tender vocals and warm instrumentation invite the listener to remember that welcome can exist even without resolution.

The Table's Still Set

They fought for out freedom and now it's being taken away

After the Last Salute

Sometimes making things better means unexpected loss. Eye surgery helped me see, but I miss the patina treated world.

Songs From My Pocket

sara harp and hgw