My darling, hold my hand

My darling, hold my hand

My Darling

Ian McLeod


My darling hold my hand 

In foreign lands 

We are the prey of creatures demand

And thieves make light of our pockets

with gentle hands


My darling put on your coat

In foreign lands 

We travel through bogs and moats

Walking through the rain and the mist

As we scavenge the land of  wild oats 


My darling believe in magic

I’ve spent my life in foreign lands

Walking through marshes and wheat filled plains

I saw the world with the utter most disdain 

For I had no home to raise you in

But the let the stars be your ceiling

And let the horizons enclose your heart

With a magical home from the storm