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Seekers

Seekers
by John Bucknall

Seekers


Through this forest of dreams bathed in leaf -dappled light,
we seek the Dreamweaver for his help with our plight.
We follow the herald, proud stag of pure white,
and pray that we find the Dreamweaver tonight.

Dreamweaver, Dreamweaver, weave starlight for us
into bright dreams of silver, wrought out of love.

Since the flame of the Guardian has diminished in power
our dreams too have darkened, doom laden and sour.
May the stag guide us true to your magical tower,
and your light melt the shadows from our darkening hour.

Dreamweaver, Dreamweaver, shield our troubled minds
from his arrows of fear and his darkness that binds.
Before nightmares stampede through the gates of our minds,
weave your spell of protection ‘til your tower we find.

Hold back the dark one and grant us the time
to come to that haven where beacons still shine.
Dreamweaver, Dreamweaver, we at last see your light;
until dawn’s new awakening, please guard us this night.

* * *


John Bucknall is a 54 year old civil servant working in the historical and sometimes hysterical city of Coventry. He's very married with two daughters who are meant to be grown up. He says he should have named his youngest daughter "Boomerang" because no matter how many times he throws her out she keeps coming back and emptying his fridge.

John maintains he has the mental age of a twenty-year-old but unfortunately his body is closer to a seventy-year-old’s, mainly because he still behaves like a twenty-year-old when his wife lets him get away with it.

A confirmed Terry Pratchett fan, John is a mine of useless Discworld trivia and if he ever gets onto "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?" would like the million pound question to be something like "What's the name of Death’s horse?" Obviously all the preceding questions would need to be on the Discworld as well.

What inspires you to write and keep writing?

My inspiration comes from writing. Faced with a blank page, I start to write. I never know where the journey will take me. Stephen King said it best; "The only way to write is to write and hope you fall through the hole in the page."

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