Songs of the Sea & Focastle

Rolling down to Old Maui

Rolling down to Old Maui

by John Fitzsimmons | The American Folk Experience

~Traditional 
Once more we sail with a favoring gale
A-bounding o’er the main
And soon the hills of the tropic clime
Will be in view again
Six sluggish months have passed away
Since from your shores sailed we
But now we’re bound from the Arctic ground
Rolling down to old Maui

Rolling down to old Maui, my boys
Rolling down to old Maui
But now we’re bound from the Arctic ground
Rolling down to old Maui

We will heave our lead where old Diamond Head
Looms up on old Oahu
Our masts and rigging are covered with ice
Our decks are filled with snow
The hoary head of the Sea Gull Isles
That decks the Arctic Sea
Are many and many leagues astern
Since we steered for old Maui

Oh welcome the seas and the fragrant breeze
Laden with odors rare
And the pretty maids in the sunny glades
Who are gentle, kind and fair
And their pretty eyes even now look out
Hoping some day to see
Our snow-white sails before the gales
Rolling down to old Maui

Once more we sail with a favoring gale
Toward our distant home
Our mainmast sprung, we’re almost done
Still we ride the ocean’s foam
Our stun’s’ls booms are carried away
What care we for that sound
A living gale is after us
Hurrah, we’re homeward bound

If you have any more information to share about this song or helpful links, please post as a comment. Thanks for stopping by the site! ~John Fitz

0 Comments

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

I am indebted to the many friends who share my love of traditional songs and to the many scholars whose works are too many to include here. I am also incredibly grateful to the collector’s curators and collators of Wikipedia, Mudcat.org, MainlyNorfolk.info, and TheContemplator.com for their wise, thorough and informative contributions to the study of folk music. 

I share this scholarly research on my site with humility, thanks, and gratitude. Please cite sources accordingly with your own research. If you have any research or sites you would like to share on this site, please post in the comment box.  

Thanks!

 

"Rolling Down to Old Maui" (or Mohee) (Roud 2005) is a traditional sea song. It expresses the anticipation of the crew of a whaling vessel of its return to Maui after a season of whaling in the Kamchatka Sea.[1]

Origin

Although the words have been found in records going back to the mid 19th century, there is some dispute about the accuracy and provenance of the melody. The words of "Rolling Down to Old Mohee" have been found in a copybook of a sailor called George Piper, who was on a whaling ship between 1866 and 1872.[2] Similar lyrics were recorded by Joanna Colcord in her collection Roll and Go, Songs of American Sailormen in 1924, where she stated that the melody had been forgotten.[3] She included additional details in the 1938 edition of her book, titled simply Songs of American Sailormen.[4]

Other references point to a version recorded in the journal of the whaling ship Atkins Adams from 1855.[5]

The tune most commonly associated with the song in modern recordings resembles that of the popular 18th-century song "Miller of Dee" but it is unknown what tune was actually associated with the words historically, as only the words were preserved.[citation needed]

Lyrics

It's a damn tough life full of toil and strife
We whalermen undergo.
And we don't give a damn when the day is done/gale has stopped
How hard the winds did blow.
'cause we're homeward bound from the Arctic ground/tis a grand ol' sound
With a good ship, taut and free
And we won't give a damn when we drink our rum
With the girls of Old Maui.

(Chorus)
Rolling down to Old Maui, me boys
Rolling down to Old Maui
We're homeward bound from the Arctic ground
Rolling down to Old Maui.

Once more we sail with a northerly gale
Towards our island home.
Our mainmast sprung, our whaling done,
And we ain't got far to roam.
Six hellish months have passed away
On the cold Kamchatka Sea,
But now we're bound from the Arctic ground
Rolling down to Old Maui.

Chorus

Once more we sail with a northerly gale
Through the ice and wind and rain.
Them coconut fronds, them tropical lands
We soon shall see again.
Our stu'n's'l bones/booms is carried away
What care we for that sound?
A living gale is after us,
Thank God we're homeward bound.

Chorus

How soft the breeze through the island trees,
Now the ice is far astern.
Them native maids, them tropical glades
Is a-waiting our return.
Even now their big brown eyes look out
Hoping some fine day to see
Our baggy sails runnin' 'fore the gales
Rolling down to old Maui.

Chorus

We'll heave the lead where old Diamond Head
Looms up on old Wahu.
Our masts and yards are sheathed with ice
And our decks are hid from view.
The horrid ice of the sea-caked isles
That deck the Arctic sea
Are miles behind in the frozen wind
Since we steered for Old Maui.

Chorus

(The following verse is seen in some collections and performances of the song, but is not universal:)
And now we're anchored in the bay
With the Kanakas all around
With chants and soft aloha oes
They greet us homeward bound.
And now ashore we'll have good fun
We'll paint them beaches red
Awaking in the arms of a wahine
With a big fat aching head.

Chorus

Versions

As it is a folk song, it has been performed and recorded by several singers and bands including The Dreadnoughts, David Coffin, Kimber's Men, Todd Rundgren, Don Sineti, Stan Rogers, The Longest Johns, and Jon Boden. Its melody has also been used, in its entirety as well as in part, as the basis for many other folk songs and song parodies, such as "The Light-Ship" by Leslie Fish and "Falling Down on New Jersey" by Mitchell Burnside-Clapp.

Californian folk singer Brian Robertson has recorded an alternate version entitled "Old Maui (from the Whales' Point of View)" on his album Saltchuck Serenade.[6]

"Rolling Down to Old Maui" was recorded by the American quintet Bounding Main and release on their 2005 album Maiden Voyage.[7]

References

  1. ^ Whales, Ice, and Men (Bockstoce, 1995, p. 45).
  2. ^ James Revell Carr (2014). Hawaiian Music in Motion: Mariners, Missionaries, and Minstrels. Music in American Life. Urbana, Ill.; Chicago: University of Illinois Press. pp. 81–. ISBN 978-0-252-09652-5. OCLC 894511210.
  3. ^ Colcord, Joanna C. (1924). Roll and Go, Songs of American Sailormen. Indianapolis, IN: The Bobbs-Merrill Company. pp. 106–108. OCLC 19934915.
  4. ^ Colcord, Joanna C. (1938). Songs of American Sailormen (2nd ed.). New York: W. W. Norton. pp. 197–200. OCLC 946498851.
  5. ^ Huntington, Gale (1970). Songs the Whalemen Sang (2nd ed.). New York: Dover Publications. ISBN 9780486221694.
  6. ^ "Maui Whales". 21 June 2016 – via www.youtube.com.
  7. ^ Rolling Down to Old Maui (28 September 2019). "Bounding Main". Bounding Main. Retrieved 2024-02-29.

Rolling Down to Old Maui

Roud 2005 ; Ballad Index SWMS027 ; trad.]

This is a song about the ca. 1850 Kamchatka bowhead whale and Pacific sperm whale fishing. Gale Huntington in his book Songs the Whalemen Sang gives a version called Rolling Down to Old Mohee from a journal made aboard the Atkins Adams in 1858.

A.L. Lloyd, Trevor Lucas and Martyn Wyndham-Read sang two verses of Rolling Down to Old Maui on their album Leviathan! Ballads and Songs of the Whaling Trade. Lloyd commented in the album’s sleeve notes:

Maui is one of the Hawaiian islands. In the fifties and sixties, the Pacific whalers used to meet there, or in nearby Oahu, twice a year. In March they fitted out for the summer season in the Arctic, when they fished the bowhead grounds off Kamchatka and the Gulf on Anadyr. In November, when they were back again, to fit out for sperm-whaling in the tropical and subtropical waters of the Southern Seas. Hence this song, bidding farewell to the bitter North, and looking forward with a smile to the languors of the South.

Jeff Warner sang Rolling Down to Old Maui in 1976 on the Collector LP Steady As She Goes: Songs and Chanteys from the Days of Commercial Sail. The liner notes commented:

Stan Hugill of Liverpool says that as early as 1820 Maui, one of the Hawaiian Islands (then the Sandwich Islands), was considered “home” by the Yankee sailors who hunted the northern grounds or the Bering Straits for right and bowhead whales. This is an off-watch song, as distinct from a working song, of whalemen longing for the women and weather of better latitudes.

Stan Rogers sang Rolling Down to Old Maui in April 1979 live at The Groaning Board, Toronto. This concert was released in the same year on his albumBetween the Breaks… Live!. He commented in the liner notes:

Emily Friedman introduced this song to me in her hotel room at the Mariposa Folk Festival in 1978, and I’ve loved it ever since. It may very well be my favourite chorus song.

Jolly Jack recorded Rolling Down to Old Maui in 1983 as title track for their eponymous Fellside album. This was also included in 1999 on the same-named Fellside anthology CD Rolling Down to Old Maui. Paul Adams commented in the liner notes:

Our title track comes from Songs The Whalemen Sang by New Englander, Gale Huntington. Many young men working on the American whaling ships kept personal journals in which the recorded the voyage, made sketches, notes and copied their favourite songs. The words of this song were taken from such a journal made aboard the Atkins Adams in 1858. The noble tune is from Chantying Aboard American Ships by F.P. Harlow. Maui is one of the Hawaiian Islands and was a meeting place for whalers… something to look forward to between trips. A “homeward bound” feeling prevails after the arctic hunting season but it was likely that they were merely calling at Maui for “fitting out” for the further half year in the southern oceans.

Roy Harris sang Rolling Down to Old Maui in 1985 on his Fellside album Utter Simplicity.

John Spiers and Jon Boden recorded Old Maui in 2005 for their album Songs and again in 2010/11 for their CD The Works. Jon Boden also sang it as the August 23, 2010 entry of his project A Folk Song a Day. They commented in their former CD’s liner notes:

A well known rowdy sea-song. This version comes from Songs the Whalemen Sang by Gale Huntington and is taken from the log-book of the American ship Atkins Adams from the year 1858. This is a rather sentimental and self-consciously literary version of the song, presumably collected before the aural tradition had had time to work its rough magic. Normally this would be “A Bad Thing” but we rather like it this way.

This video shows them at the Gosport and Fareham Festival on the Easter weekend in 2008:

Lyrics

Rolling Down to Old Mohee from the journal of the Atkins Adams, 1858

Once more we are waft by the northern gales bounding over the main
And now the hills of the tropic isles we soon shall see again
Five sluggish moons have waxed and waned since from the shore sailed we
𝄆 Now we are bound from the Arctic ground, rolling down to old Mohee 𝄇

Through many a blow of frost and snow and bitter squalls of hail
Our spars were bent and our canvas rent as we braved the northern gale
The horrid isles of ice cut tiles that deck the Arctic sea
𝄆 Are many, many leagues astern as we sail to old Mohee 𝄇

Through many a gale of snow and hail our good ship bore away
And in the midst of the moonbeam’s kiss we slept in St. Lawrence Bay
And many a day we whiled away in the bold Kamchatka Sea
𝄆 And we’ll think of that as we laugh and chat with the girls of old Mohee 𝄇

An ample share of toil and care we whalemen undergo
But when it’s over what care we how the bitter blast may blow
We are homeward bound that joyful sound and yet it may not be
𝄆 But we’ll think of that as we laugh and chat with the girls of old Mohee 𝄇

A.L. Lloyd, Trevor Lucas and Martyn Wyndham-Read sing Rolling Down to Old Maui

It’s an ample share of toil and care we whaleman undergo,
Through many a blow of frost and hail and bitter squalls of snow,
The horrid isles of ice cut tiles that deck the Polar sea.
But now we’re bound from the Arctic ground, rolling down to old Maui.

Once more we’re blown by the northern gales, and bounding o’er the main;
And the green hills of them tropical isles we soon shall see again.
Oh, it’s many a day we toiled away in that cold Kamchatka Sea,
And we’ll think of that as we laugh and chat with the girls of old Maui.

Jeff Warner sings Rolling Down to Old Maui

It’s a damn tough life full of toil and strife we whalemen undergo,
We don’t give a damn when the gale is done how hard the winds did blow.
We’re homeward bound, ’tis a grand ol’ sound with a good ship taut and free,
We don’t give a damn when we drink our rum with the girls of old Maui.

Chorus (after each verse):
Rolling down to old Maui, me boys
Rolling down to old Maui
We’re homeward bound from the Arctic ground
Rolling down to old Maui

Once more we sail with a Northerly gale through the ice, and wind, and rain,
And them coconut fronds and them tropical lands we soon shall see again.
Six hellish months have passed away in the cold Kamchatka sea
But now we’re bound from the Arctic ground rolling down to old Maui.

Once more we sail with the Northerly gale towards our Island home,
Our mainmast sprung and our whaling done and we ain’t got far to roam.
Our stans’l booms is carried away, what care we for that sound,
A living gale is after us, thank God we’re homeward bound

How soft the breeze from the island trees now the ice is far astern,
And them native maids and them island glades is awaiting our return.
Even now their big, black eyes look out hoping some fine day to see,
Our baggy sails running ‘fore the gales rolling down to old Maui.

Spiers & Boden sing Rolling Down to Old Maui

Once more we are waft by the northern gales a-bounding over the main
And soon the hills of the tropic isles we all shall see again;
Five sluggish moons have waxed and waned since from the shore sailed we
And now we are bound from the Arctic ground, rolling down to old Maui.

Through many a gale of frost and hail our big ship bore away
And in the midst of a moonbeam’s kiss we slept at St. Lawrence Bay;
And many is the day we whiled away on the bold Kamchatka Sea
But now we are bound from the Arctic ground, rolling down to old Maui.

Chorus (after each verse):
Rolling down to old Maui, me boys
Rolling down to old Maui
We’re homeward bound from the Arctic ground
Rolling down to old Maui

Through many a blow of frost and snow and bitter squalls of hail
Our spars were bent and our canvas rent as we braved the northern gale.
The cruel isles of ice-capped tiles that deck the Arctic sea
Are many, many leagues astern as we sail to old Maui.

An ample share of toil and care we whalemen undergo,
But when it’s over, what care we how the bitter the blast may blow?
We’re homeward bound, that joyful sound across the Arctic sea,
We’re homeward bound from the Arctic ground, rolling down to old Maui.

Acknowledgements and Links

A.L. Lloyd’s lyrics were taken from the Leviathan! sleeve notes.

See also the Mudcat Café track Lyr Req: Rollin’ Down to Old Maui.

One of the best versions by Stan Rogers and crew…

 

Another great version by Assassin’s Creed IV: Black Flag…

 

https://youtu.be/cAWRwdeonR0

The American Folk Experience is dedicated to collecting and curating the most enduring songs from our musical heritage.  Every performance and workshop is a celebration and exploration of the timeless songs and stories that have shaped and formed the musical history of America. John Fitzsimmons has been singing and performing these gems of the past for the past forty years, and he brings a folksy warmth, humor and massive repertoire of songs to any occasion. 

Festivals & Celebrations

Coffeehouses

School Assemblies

Library Presentations

Songwriting Workshops

Artist in Residence

House Concerts

Pub Singing

Irish & Celtic Performances

Poetry Readings

Campfires

Music Lessons

Senior Centers

Voiceovers & Recording

“Beneath the friendly charisma is the heart of a purist gently leading us from the songs of our lives to the timeless traditional songs he knows so well…”

 

Globe Magazine

Join Fitz at The Colonial Inn

“The Nobel Laureate of New England Pub Music…”

Scott Alaric

Adventures in the Modern Folk Underground

On the Green, in Concord, MA Every Thursday Night for over thirty years…

“A Song Singing, Word Slinging, Story Swapping, Ballad Mongering, Folksinger, Teacher, & Poet…”

Theo Rogue

Songcatcher Rag

Fitz’s Recordings

& Writings

Songs, poems, essays, reflections and ramblings of a folksinger, traveler, teacher, poet and thinker…

Download for free from the iTunes Bookstore

“A Master of Folk…”

The Boston Globe

Fitz’s now classic recording of original songs and poetry…

Download from the iTunes Music Store

“A Masterful weaver of song whose deep, resonant voice rivals the best of his genre…”

Spirit of Change Magazine

“2003: Best Children’s Music Recording of the Year…”

Boston Parent's Paper

Fitz & The Salty Dawgs Amazing music, good times and good friends…

Listen here

TheCraftedWord.org

Writing help

when you need it…

“When the eyes rest on the soul…that’s Fitzy…”

Lenny Megliola

WEEI Radio

Dallas: 7/7/2016

I woke up this morning almost too fearful to read the news. I stayed up late into the night just watching for the breaking stories and updates. Now, I am simplyconfused about how to act. I feel incredibly small and pointless, unsure of where I stand and how to move...

Ghetto of Your Eye

A Veteran's Day Remembrance I wrote this song back in the winter of 1989 in the dining car of a steam driven train, somewhere along the Trans-Siberian railway, after meeting a group of Russian soldiers fresh from battle in Afghanistan—that poor country that has been a...

Wrenching Day

It has certainly been a long time since wisdom ruled the day. I did get up and run in the rain, and now I am preparing to do some “wrenching” on my motorcycle. I am trying to temper my eagerness to ride with my desire to get everything “right” on the bike--without...

The Fallacy of Philanthropy

There are thousand hacking at the branches of evil to one striking at the root. ~Henry David Thoreau     I just spent a long day deconstructing our backyard. EJ sold his alpacas, and so our fenced in pasture and barn can now return to its suburban origins as a shed...

What Christmas Is

  I am not sure what Christmas really is anymore. I am almost afraid to think of what Christians are going through in the lands of the original Christian faith. By dint of place and time, I grew up in the Catholic faith, and try as I might, I can’t ever escape the...

Grandma’s Words

In the beginning was the word... ~Genesis       We do not live in Grandma’s world of words, and neither did grandma live in her grandma’s world of words and on and on and so on in a downwards devolution through untold millennia. From primal grunts, whistles and...

To a teacher

This shift from fall to winterIs the cruelest month:Long days and nightsIn a blather of responsibility’s I hoist from a murky holeAnd sort and siftOn a messy desk. I pity my students who trembleMy red pen of vengeance;Who wait with fetid thoughtsFreighted by what they...

Nurture Passion

How about we all take the bull by the horns and make this blog thing work! Your job this week is to do something with your blog that is powered by the passion that is in you. Passion is the one thing you have some control over. There are plenty of smarter, more...

The Storm of Fallibility

       One good cigar is better than two bad cigars, or so it seems right now. It is a beautiful and stormy night--pouring rain and howling wind, and I thought a good smoke would be a fitting end to a busy and over-booked week. As it goes, I bought a couple of cheap...

Moby Dick: Chapters 42-51

A literary reflection to my students... The lowering for whales, the appearance of Fedallah's crew, the vivid descriptions of the first chase in a sudden and unrelenting gale, the fatalistic joy of resigning oneself to fate, the awesome poetic intensity of Melville's...

Eighteen Years

At midnight I hear the cuckoo clock chiming from it’s perch in a cluttered kitchen locked in cadence with the tower bell gonging this old mill town at midnight to a deeper sleep, like a call to prayer reminding me that this new day, starting in the dark of a hallowed...

Many Miles To Go

I see it in your eyes
and in the ways you try to smile;
in the ways you whisper—I don’t know—
and put it all off for a while;
then you keep on keeping on
in the only way you know:
you’re scared of where you’re going
and who’ll catch you down below.

Weeds

  Somewhere locked in this choke of weeds spread like a mangy carpet is the hardened vine of Pipo’s Concord Grape he planted in an eager spring three years ago. Gasping for air and sun and water perhaps it has found some way to hide from my flailing hoe and the...

Make Something out of Something

It's hard to make chicken salad out of chicken manure      Dirty hands are a good sign, so hopefully, you got some mental mud on your hands and created some content to work with today.  To a starving man, any food is good food--unless it...

The Farmer, The Weaver & the Space Traveler

     Words matter. Words carefully crafted and artfully expressed  matter infinitely more. There is something compelling in a turn of phrase well-timed, arresting image juxtaposed on arresting images; broad ideas distilled into clear, lucid singular thought. For the...

A New Paradigm

     Sometimes, like right now, I long for a pile of papers on my lap that I could speed through, grade with a series of checks and circles, a few scribbled lines of praise or condemnation, and drop into a shoebox on my desk and say, "Here are your essays!" But I...

Raccoon

I’ve stopped the chinks with newspaper and rags wedged tightly against the wind blowing cold three days now. I feed the fire and curse its hissing and steaming mixing green oak with sticks of dried pine calling myself Raccoon grown fat in the suburbs sleeping in...

Trawler

Leave the fog stillness
of a cold harbor town;
cup our hands
in the warm diesel sound—
leave while the children
are calmed in their dreams
by light buoys calling:
“Don’t play around me.”

If you don’t stand, you cower…

     Maybe it is time to be less forgiving. I have rarely agreed with our president, but I held on to the shreds of truth that shore up his arguments: we can’t welcome every immigrant who makes it to our border; we cannot bow to the audacity of corrupt governments in...

Another Day…

I've been somewhat lax about posting in here of late, but I have been giving myself a bit of a break from writing. In fact, I spent the last month or so just living--and that has been just fine with me. I set a simple goal for myself this summer to get in shape. PJ...

Joshua Sawyer Podcast

Wisdom

Wisdom starts in non-action… The doing and non-doing are the equal balance. Without the luxury of contemplation there would not be a prioritizing of need versus want. Wisdom balances physical reality… Wisdom does not shuffle tasks out of view but finds a way to...

Once Burned. Twice Shy.

Just because no one understands you,  it doesn’t mean you are an artist ~Bumper Sticker        I sometimes wonder why when you give a group of teenagers a video camera, the first impulse is to shoot something stupid. It’s as if there is some jackass switch...

Molting

I am always molting; leaving my hollowed skin in awkward places, scaring people and making them jump. They touch me and think I’m real; then laugh and say things like “What a riot.” I’m tired of this changing of skins. I’d rather stumble on myself and be fooled; and...

Life Ain’t Hard; Its Just a Waterfall

You say, hey,
who are you to say that you’re the one
to go telling me just where I’m coming from.
You can have your cake
but don’t frost me ‘til I’m done.
I can’t be fixed and I can’t afford to stall;
because life ain’t hard it’s just a waterfall.

A Late Night Metacognition

Many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after ~Henry David Thoreau           When you need something done, find a busy person to help you get it done. My mother loved repeating that to me all the way to her dying day,...

Last of the Boys

Come on over here
and I’ll buy the next round:
cold beer and some shooters
for the boys on the town;
Darby ain’t drinkin’
so let’s live it up
‘cause he’ll drive us all home
in his company truck

Jesus Christ, Jimmy,
man you say that you’re well;
I say we drive into Boston
and stir up some hell;
put a cap on the weekend,
a stitch in the night,
watch the Pats play on Sunday
and the welterweight fight.

That’s all she wrote boys,
there ain’t any more;
that’s why we’re standing here;
that’s what it’s for.
That’s why we all go on working all day
busting our ass for short pay:
~Hey…

The March Snow

An early March snow brought down all these branches Cracking and crashing throughout a long night, Piling them impatiently in the yard Like jacksticks in a child’s messy room. The stepladder I used to rake the ridge Stands like an awkward sculpture draped in white...

The Enigma

Black Pond is not as deepas it is dark, dammedsome century agobetween ledges of granite and an outcropping of leaning fir, huckleberry, and white pine. For years I have paddled and trolled;swam, fished, sailed and sometimessimply tread water in the night trying to...

Practicing What I Preach

It is not where you go. It is how you go. ~Fitz Is there any value in coming to the page this late at night after three hours of singing in a pub, just because I said I would? I expect you to go to the empty page and pry tired and stubborn thoughts and lay them on the...

Going Google?

When you find yourself in the majority, it's time to join the minority ~Mark Twain I have to admit, Google is pretty impressive. The whole set of features that are offered to the public and to educators for free is pretty astounding: email, document creation and...

The Next Time Around

        I wonder what the years have really taught me about writing and music. I have gotten so used to preaching and teaching that I am a bit looped by the thought of writing—as in how I wrote before (or how I will claim I wrote) before settling into this somewhat...

No Dad To Come Home To

Rain’s falling outside of Boston—
Thank God I’m not working tonight.
I’ve got six of my own,
And a stepdaughter at home,
And a momma keeping things right.
I wonder if they’re at the table
With their puzzles, their papers and pens?
When I get off the highway
And pull in that driveway,
Will they run to the window again?

Essex Bay

This house makes funny noises
When the wind begins to blow.
I should have held on and never let you go.
The wind blew loose the drainpipe.
You can hear the melting snow.
I’ll fix it in the morning when I go.
I’ll fix it in the morning when I go.

Ready. Set. Go.

Who forgets to rinse his hair? Me, I guess, for that was the start of my day. I smelled something like coconut oil on my way to school, and then I realized, dang, my hair is still pretty wet. Wet with hair conditioner. And then I get sot school all coconutty smelling...

Redemption

Finally, the tall green pines standing sentinel around this cold and black New Hampshire pond are framed in a sky of blue. After a month of steady rains, foggy nights, and misty days, I am reborn into a newly created world—a world that finally answered my prayers: no...

The Threshing

I trace her charging through the cornfield shaking the timbers of the ready crop startling up the blackbirds, and surprisingly, a jay. It’s the jay who startles me—
who with two quick pulls wrests itself from the transient green, screaming back from its familiar scrub...

Out of the Forge: April 13, 2017

In my forty years or so of actively singing and playing folk music and writing songs, I have played together with a remarkably narrow list of musical partners: Rogue, Wally and Barry with camp songs and Hatrack and Seth with literally everything. These last few years...

What’s in a Song

Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet. ~Plato         Writing a song is not just an exercise in seeking some kind of future fame. It is...

The End Is the Beginning

For the past twenty years this night has always been a bittersweet moment. I have never been hobbled by boredom or a lack of "things I love to do," so whatever supposed free time I have is rewarding in whatever I choose to do. The flip side is that I am teacher, and I...

Contact John Fitzsimmons...and thanks!