01 Weaving The Summer

01 Holly Lord

From the album The Quickening - written by Steve Knightley and Kim O'Loughlin

09 The Oak

From the Album 'Magick' (image by Carlos Schwabe)

04 Pan

The Goddess and the Weaver - the legend of Athena and Arachnea - from Spiral Dance's first album 'Woman of the Earth' 

01 The Goddess And The Weaver

Title track from Spiral's very first album released in 1996. 

01 Woman Of The Earth

Elen, the antlered Goddess, the soul of the wildwood who guides and protects us on the pathways; both physical, and spiritual.
Elen of the Ways

Spun from sunlight, woven with mist
Elen’s path is honeysuckle kissed
Honeysuckle kissed and laced with the green
And along the old trackway she’s walking

 I felt her presence sent in a dream of a storm
and I know her essence is the wilderness where she born
Come run with the wild things I heard her call …

Spun from sunlight, woven with mist
Elen’s path is honeysuckle kissed
Honeysuckle kissed and laced with the green
And along the old trackway she’s walking


Early morn, Red the dawn,
Why do I feel like the storm is still brewing me
Caught between day and the dream
Be still in your heart there is no need to flee
She waits in the shadows, the lady of antlers 
Has come to guide me

Spun from sunlight, woven with mist
Elen’s path is honeysuckle kissed
Honeysuckle kissed and laced with the green
And along the old trackway she’s walking

The woodland is her temple from mountain top to sacred spring
The keeper of the green wisdom, the gift of the wild lore she’ll bring   
Through rain washed meadows or beneath snow laden boughs
You’ll find her there


Find the way, track the ley
The pathway you seek lies ahead through the trees
When she’s near you will heat
The green Goddesse's song carried along on the breeze
Crowned with the seasons branches of velvet she wears

Spun from sunlight, woven with mist
Elen’s path is honeysuckle kissed
Honeysuckle kissed and laced with the green
And along the old trackway she’s walking


A kiss from the past caressed me lasr night	
A journey woven with threads of time
At one with the land and lands be as one
Tracking the deer as the seasons moved on

Spun from sunlight, woven with mist
Elen’s path is honeysuckle kissed
Honeysuckle kissed and laced with the green
And along the old trackway she’s walking

And along the old trackway she’s walking
And along the old trackway she’s walking

Land and Legend

Elon of the Ways

Elen of the Ways

Damh the Bard's stirring and powerful song about the sacred land of Albion. Damh not only gave Spiral Dance permission to record this song but he joined us in the recording process.

1-03 Spirit Of Albion   Wooden Box

This is a song that draws from Adrienne's life journey and spiritual journey.   Constantly torn between the land of her parents and ancestors and the country of her birth, she had never really felt a strong sense of ‘belonging’ to any one place. Growing up as a first generation Australian, surrounded by stories and songs from the lands her blood Ancestors made it a struggle to feel connected to this beautiful country of Australia. Adrienne explained, “Feeling like a visitor for so many years, I wanted to create something to help my roots sink into the soil, I needed this Southern land to claim me…I called and she answered.”  
We would like to acknowledge the Peramangk people of the Adelaide Hills and Mt Lofty Ranges, the Kaurna people of the Adelaide Plains and the Ngarrindjeri people of the Murray, Coorong and Fleurieu on whose land we live.

The spirits of this place have whispered me a song
With the north wind in the she-oak tree when the summer days are long
With the greening of the hills when the winter rains have come
And I know they’re telling me it’s to this land that I belong.

 Black crow flies on silent wings across an endless blue
Magpie carolls and boobook calls beneath the full spring moon
 Faerie wren and his followers are dancing with the fae
 And brother Kookaburra calls to the sky people to light the sun each day

Chorus:
Goddess of the Southern Land I’m yet to know your name
I’ve been travelling the pathways from where my ancestors came
But now I long to hear the songlines that are singing in your veins
Goddess of the Southern Land I’m yet to know your name


Rainbow serpent mother, protector of the land
In the dreaming time awoke and moved her body across the sand
And shaped the land to being, making hills and mountains rise,
Filling water holes and rivers, she brought the earth to life.

The wild Mount Lofty Ranges have given me my home
A place when the earth was young, a mighty giant roamed
And travelled across the landscape between the rivers and the plain
His body formed the mountain range in the place where he was slain

Chorus

I know Brigid’s walking with me when the wild flowers have come
And  the Wattle flowers into life the colour of the sun
In misty mountain bush land, the smell of eucalyptus after rain
And the bark fall signals that it’s time to celebrate Beltane.

The magick of your dreamtime, the story of this land
There’s so much of your wildness that I’m yet to understand
And although I am a newcomer and my journey’s just begun
Your ancient voice has told me that the land and I are one

Chorus

The spirits of this place have whispered me a song
With the north wind in the she-oak tree when the summer days are long
Through the greening of the hills when the winters rains have come
And now I know they’re telling me it’s to this land that I belong.

Goddess of the Southern Land

When the land quickens at the end of winter, after the dry heat of summer when the first of the winter rains have come and after bushfires blacken the forests and the earth, it rises. You can feel it, see it and breathe it in – The Serpent Energy.

Serpent energy is on the rise
From the rainbow pool it flows
From the cauldron of the earth
From soil and clay the green one grows
And the voices of the land
Join the songs of ancient trees
To awaken us from our winter sleep
And feel the serpent energy

From deep within her well
Flow the sacred streams
A gifting from the otherworld
Across the plain of dreams
Spirits move in water rock and stone
Mother Earth’s sweet blood and bone
We’ve come to farewell the crone 
And greet the maiden of the green

Strong on cloven hooves
Comes the horned one in his prime
Standing at the Beltane gate
With the sun locked in his tines
With the maiden he will dance
With the maiden he will sing
She’ll take his seed the Goddess’s need
And abundance in summer bring
   
God and Goddess bless
The new life of the land
The gift of flower, fruit and bud
Sent from the mother’s hand
It’s the greening of rebirth
From their dance of ecstasy 
It’s the life force of the earth
The Serpent energy

Serpent Energy

A song to celebrate our annual English Ale held in the Adelaide Hills town of Mylor. We honour many of the customs of our English Ancestors; Morris dancing, hobby horses, guisers, the fiery torch lit procession with our pageant giants and the burning of the Wickerman. Our ritual celebrates the turning of the year, the harvest and honours the old gods, ancestors and spirits of the land as we move into the darker time – the time of the Crone. Adrienne (herself a Landlord’s daughter!) wanted a tune to encompass the energy of this song. Landlord’s Daughter, originally named after the character played by Britt Ekland in The Wicker Man film, was the result.

Remember the time of sickles and scythes
Beneath the blue of late summer skies
Greet the god of grain, mother of corn
The welcome brew of John Barleycorn
Share the bread, taste the ale 
of field and vine, hedge and vale
To the gods of old we sing Wassail
And gather for the burning of the Wickerman

Burn, burn, Wickerman burn
Fire in the night, feel the season’s turning
The kindred flame of winter’s return
Will rise at the burning of the Wicker Man

The veil between the worlds is thin
Summer ends, darkness begins
The white owl in the eucalypt waits
As the crone opens the Summerland gates
From her cauldron all is transformed
As the guardians of the past return
And from their shadowy realms are drawn
And are welcomed by the flames of the Wicker man.

Along the pathway the Giants come 
Walk the heartbeat of the earth to the rhythm of the drum
Hobbyhorses with bright ribbons fly
Wild green men weaving fire pass by
Painted faced mummers with bells on their feet
Move with the music as the Morris sticks beat
out a rhythm of Bedlam, come we shall meet
And dance around the flames of the wicker man

From the flames a messenger flies
A serpent leaps into the dark southern sky
We stand with our clan under stars on this night 
And ask the old gods to witness this rite
So to the fire with you flaming torch come
The wintering time of the land has begun 
Now we’ll await the return of the sun
For all that’s left are the ashes of the wicker man.

Wicker Man / Landlord's Daughter

This song was written by our friend Wy and she joins us in the singing.  Mallee is a dreaming. Her name means ‘woman’ and like any dreaming she generates myriad souls as easily as she makes leaves, flowers, fruits and seeds. In any generation, many of these take human birth, wise celestial souls bringing cosmic wisdom while letting Mother-Mallee experience humanity close-up. Sometimes she reaches out to you and calls you home…

Seven stars in the sky
Seven daughters of the law
Seven branches of the tree
Every leaf a word of love for me

Mallee o mallee o mallee o mallee my mother
Mallee my mother my many armed mother tree
Mallee o mallee o mallee o mallee my mother
Gives me love deep as deep as can be

I have lain in your shade
I’ve seen the mistletoe child all on your arm
I have felt your tides of cosmic splendor
Hold me mallee keep me safe from harm

Mallee o mallee o mallee o mallee my mother
Mallee my mother my many armed mother tree
Mallee o mallee o mallee o mallee my mother
Gives me wisdom deep as deep as the sea 

I have been a rock among your roots
I have been your leaves all wet with rain
You have looked on me with eyes that know me
Called me daughter, called me home again

mallee o mallee o mallee o mallee my mother
mallee my mother my many armed mother tree
mallee o mallee o mallee o mallee my mother
gives me power, power for you and for me 

Mallee o mallee o mallee o mallee my mother
Mallee my mother my many-armed mother tree
mallee o mallee o mallee o mallee my mother
gives me love deep as deep as can be

Mallee o mallee o mallee o mallee my mother
Mallee my mother my many armed mother tree
Mallee o mallee o mallee o mallee my mother
Gives me wisdom deep as deep as the sea

Mallee My Mother

Inspired by the ‘twisted trees’ growing by the lake in Paimpont and based on a legend from the forest of Brocéliande in Brittany. Legend tells that when the fae were driven out of the forest of Brocéliande the tears they shed formed an inland sea. Adrienne met an old woman in the forest who was gathering mushrooms and pointed her to a tree that grew by the bank of the lake, a tree bent over leaning into the water with two trunks growing from its base, one trunk almost lying on the other. According to local legend a jealous magician had turned two lovers into a tree, forever to hold each other, growing by the side of lake.

There’s a forest that lies by a dark inland sea where great oaks and tall beeches do stand
The dark waters it’s said are tears that were shed by the fae that were banished from the land
From the cool sacred springs the Korrigan sings with a haunted and siren like sound
And by the lake deep and wide grow two trees side by side with their trunks and their limbs twisted round.

The trees hold together in a lovers embrace and have stood as the centuries pass
Awaiting the time for the rune and the rhyme and the spell to broken at last.
But from their prison of green never will they be free and to the wheel of the seasons be tied
For the magick holds fast many life times to last so in the greenwood forever must bide.

Memories stir through the branches and limbs and the wind in the hazel does sing
Of a time when the world was new underfoot when a queen walked this shore with her king.
Of a dark one unseen with cold eyes of green who in a jealous rage did despair
and vowed by the phases of the moon wax and wane to banish and vanish the pair.

On a chill night that was brewed by the wind the moon lay in a cold baleful sky 
From the worlds in between came a bleak alchemy and on the wind the poison did fly
Beneath the black cloak the grim magick was spoke and crept like a mist over stones
And from the soil rich and dark came trunk, limb and bark where once there was flesh, blood and bones.



There’s a forest that lies by a dark inland sea where great oaks and tall beeches do stand
The dark waters it’s said are tears that were shed by the fae that were banished from the land
From the cool sacred springs the Korrigan sings with a haunted and siren like sound
And by the lake deep and wide grow two trees side by side with their trunks and their limbs twisted round.

Song of Two Trees

In All Saints Church in the small fishing town of Sheringham in Norfolk can be found a bench end carving of a Mermaid, said to have been carved to bring luck to the fishing fleet and as a comfort to the families that had lost loved ones to the sea. But some say it is a reminder of a darker past, when sailors were lured to their doom.

Let blow the winds my bonnie lads come sail upon my sea	
Beware you of the angry wave that drives your ship to me	 
Where the ocean boils and the current roils and the salty tides do flow			   		               		
I’ll await you in my chamber cool below, below, below

She searches for treasures in the sand 
Along a ragged wave torn shore line
Rusty comb and mirror in her hand 
Crystals on her lips of salty brine 
And through the chill twilight the sea-maid sings  
From the storm see what the cold tide brings                                                                  
She’ll offer you treasures from below
But there’s darker things beneath the waves than you could ever know
						                             
There’s a calling from the siren of the deep
Her silver scales and lily white breasts shining
The secrets of Atlantis she will keep
Veiled behind a smile that’s so beguiling  
May you catch the fair winds in your sails
To steer far from tempest and from gales
For that beauty with her face pale as the moon
Will call you to rocks and see you to your doom

 ‘Tis a soulful song that journeys with the tide 
 from land beneath the sea a cry of yearning
across the waves where wild, white horses ride
Once cast adrift there can be no returning
Now the sea-witch has you in her thrall
She’s cast her spell, you’ve answered to the call
Now watch your life dance before your eyes
For below the sea you cannot breath and that’s where your fate now lies.

The Sherinham Mermaid / Bay of Soles

From the legend of Clann Lir, one of the saddest stories in the Irish Mythological Cycle.

In a time of bards and chieftains, when the bright ones walked the land
And beauty slipped from silver strings touched by a minstrel’s hand 
In a time when giants held the hills and stone circles rang with song
And the Lia Fail stood in the soil and Tara’s walls stood strong.

A man of the De Dannan, from a noble line was Lir
His wife the daughter of Ireland’s king and four children he loved dear
But Niamh his wife lost her life, in child bed she did pass
And left four children filled with grief and Lir a broken heart

The King he sent to Lir his second daughter as a bride 
And though she had a love for Lir no child could she abide
For Aoife had a jealous heart and took them far from home
To be rid of them for evermore and have the love of Lir alone.
 
It was at the Lake of Oaks that it came to pass
With the power of her druids’ wand a mighty spell she cast
From now you’ll take the shape of swans, and wild birds you will be
Nine hundred years will keep you on the lakes and on the sea

CHORUS :
And over the wild waves flew the children of Lir
Down to the land of the ever living
This spell was laid upon them for nine hundred years
And till then there would be no returning

In the first three hundred years you’ll be trapped upon this shore
Then northward to the Sea of Moyle for yet three hundred more
Then to the stormy Atlantic, the waters chill and deep
And in the Bay of Eris waves will rock you as you sleep 

And when a queen from the South goes North to wed a king
And when you first reach dry land and you hear a lone bell ring
And when you find the lake of birds only then will you be free
But until then this mighty curse will keep you far from me

Across the winds of time the four swan children flew
And for the next nine hundred years only gales and storms they knew
Their beds were on the crest of waves and upon the rocky shore
And they keened a sad lament for all that had gone before

A new age dawned upon the land, strangers to the Isle had come
Into the Hollow hills and mounds the Faerie folk had gone
So to the lake of Birds they flew high on snowy wings
To be free of the curse and hear a lone bell ring

And like wind striping leaves from trees their swan bodies fell away
Their sweet singing voices stilled all turned to dust and clay
Blessings go with you Children of Lir beyond nine waves now fly
And their spirits made a final flight against the fading sky.


And over the wild waves flew the children of Lir
Down to the land of the ever living
This spell was laid upon them for nine hundred years
And till then there would be no returning

The Children of Lir

Samhain in the Southern Hemisphere.  Adapted from a poem written by our friend Mike Adamson.

In the great southern land, in the starlight, cold,
In the sharpening nights when the days grow short,
We’ll gather to the telling of the tales of old
Where the lord of the year in his reign holds court,

Summer’s riot of warmth has passed us by,
The evenings are blue and still.
The bonfires crackle beneath the sky,
Their embers hold back the chill. 

We’ll hear the tale of the Celtic wheel,
How it turns within seasons,
How the Gods of old our hearts shall heal,
Each for our own special reasons.

The wheel is turning, churning, burning,
The wheel is turning, evermore,
The wheel is turning, learning, yearning,
The wheel is turning, olden lore.

The misty glades of autumn hold,
A relief from summers fierce,
The seeds of coming sharpness, cold,
When flames the darkness pierce.

Gather to the drumbeat, heed the cry,
The way between worlds is clear.
All who are gone, in freedom fly,
Free from pain and free from fear.

Soul's Gateway

Morris dancers celebrate and dance throughout the wheel of the year, this song is for dancing in the dark at Yule and was written by our friend Andrew Miller who is Squire of Hemlock Morris in Bedford, UK. The tune ‘Tampered Twilight’ was written by Paul one evening in Tampa, Florida when we were on tour in 2016 and just seemed made to fit with this song.

The days are short and the nights grow long
As tradesmen and plough boys sing their song
A song of hope, not one of fear
A safe home for the coming year.
 
With Holly wreaths and Mistletoe
We welcome the darkness, the frost and snow
The icy winds and the starry sky
Tell us Midwinter will soon be nigh
 
Then out of the shadows with a ringing sound
In circles they spin round and round
With ‘midnight-faces’, behold the sight!
As the Morris dance into the night
 
In watery sunshine ‘mid bare branched trees
We gather firewood so we don’t freeze
As the Yule Log burns so fierce and hot
We thank the Earth for what we’ve got
 
The deer runs high upon the hill
The ancient woodland is quiet and still
But a spark of light from a candle’s flame
Keeps us safe so that we remain
 
Then out…
 


In a heartbeat, in a sound
In the air and in the ground
Our destinies and where we’re bound
Were man needs hope, the dance is found

Like our fathers long before
On the heath, on the moor
On village green or on the shore
The dance goes on for evermore
 
Then out…
 
We dance in the darkness and give thanks once more
For the New Year coming and the one that’s o’er
We dance again upon the Earth
For Life, for Death, for Rebirth
 
Then out…

Dark Days and Heys / Tampered Twilight

Spiral's contribution to this wonderful album.
Tuatha Dea and Nightsong Studios Presents:
THE GREEN ALBUM is a collaborative concept album featuring Tuatha Dea, Wendy Elizabeth Rule, Sj Tucker, Sharon Knight, Winter Jp Sichelschmidt, Celia Farran, Bekah Kelso, Ginger Doss, Damh The Bard, Kellianna Girouard, Spiral Dance, Spiral Rhythm, Murphey's Midnight Rounders, Brian Henke and Mama Gina LaMonte.
It's a musical plan of action. An Independent musical compilation created by a consortium of like minded Muses, Musicians and Songbirds from all over uniting as a global Tribe to raise awareness, celebrate and give something back to Mother Earth! All of the Artists have banned together and partial proceeds from every Album sold by the collaborators will be donated to Rainforest Trust, a Global Green Charity doing amazing work around the world! 

Through fire light and dark the winter called
“Come greet an early morning with the frost upon the land”
A halo binds the moon with ice crystals in the air
And the skeletons of trees like guardians do stand

The harvest is long over and we’ve passed through Samhain’s gate
The misty woods are sleeping, for Bridhe’s sweet kiss they wait
The wind it cuts like a knife and for the bones of Jack Frost keens 
but the Winter King must now bow down to the champion of the green

And the lord of the woodland is waiting in the leaves
Through the forest and the hedgerows the song of life he weaves
With his feet deep in the soil he watches over the greenwood
He’s a messenger from nature, this ancient wise god.

              
Chorus
Hey oh it’s the green man Jack, running through the woods singing up the summertime
And you know you will never look back from where the spirit of the green will take you 

There’s poetry in the breezes that tell of things to come
With the dancing corn and swaying wheat beneath the summer sun
Lay down among the blossoms sacred to the flower bride
Lost in scented fields where meadowsweet grows wild

Lady of the lakes and fields, lady of the woods
I feel your verdant energy pulsing in my blood
Your silver skin of bark and moss upon your thighs
With Ivy twirls and briar curls, you watch with hidden eyes

Can you tell the Green man is waiting in the leaves
Through the forest and the hedgerows the song of life he weaves
With his feet deep in the soil he watches over the greenwood
He’s a messenger from nature, this ancient wise god.

              
Chorus
Hey oh it’s the green man Jack, running through the woods singing up the summertime
And you know you will never look back from where the spirit of the green will take you 





Strength of Oak and sage of Yew, Rowan, Ash and Thorn
The summer king has claimed his bride so all will be reborn
The spirit of the wildwood calls, in the language of the trees 
Protect the woodlands of the earth as the forest gods decree

Without the essence of the green our world can never be
 Drawing breath around us from the earth into the trees                                                                                     
 from soil and shoot, stem and root,  by leaf and bark and limb
  We keep alive the wisdom of the Lord and Lady Green.

And the Wildman of the woods is watching from the leaves
Through the forest and the hedgerows the song of life he weaves
With his feet deep in the soil he watches over the greenwood
He’s a messenger from nature, this ancient wise god.


Chorus
Hey oh it’s the green man Jack, running through the woods singing up the summertime
And you know you will never look back from where the spirit of the green will take you

The Green Album Contribution

Spirit of the Green

02 Solstice Evergreen

Spiral Dance - Songs of Magick, Myth and legend. 

As powerful as any equinox, as reinvigorating as any inspired ritual...Spiral Dance offers up rich vocals, delicate melodies and rousing jams all invoking the pagan world at the dawning of its rebirth - their sound and their themes are intoxicating and addictive.  Fusing folk-lore and legend with a good heady serve of pagan mystery, Spiral Dance presents an eclectic blend of traditional English folk-rock with powerful self-penned songs and tunes. Rousing melodies intertwine with mythical tales that will spirit you into the realms of magic and the mists of ancient time – this is music that will rock your ancestors! 


Spiral dance are a maelstrom of beautiful Pagan-Folk creativity
Cyrkel Spynn Magazine

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