In Dec 1984 we took a belated honeymoon trip to Madeira Beach that was gifted to us by my mom who had won it in a lottery. Joy and I co-wrote I’ll Find You - the genesis of it was written in the Florida on the Gulf side. It travelled through so many versions before it was finally recorded for our album Evening From Hillcrest and added to Joy’s solo album titled Joy Palmer Brooks. I love the groove and overall vibe of this tune and the memories it evokes.
This week's poem is from my Quarterly book. I used ideas spread over the years of different lyrics from songs I’d written and gave my 1964 Martin D35 it’s voice in their creation.
Joy Brooks - Vocals/Percussion
Fredrick Brooks - Acoustic Guitar
Robbie Grundwall - Keyboards/Bass
Joseph Shabason - Flute
Chris Pezzarello - Drums/Percussion
Caroline Marie Brooks - Harmonies
Katherine McKenzie - Harmonies
Recorded and produced Robbie Grunwald at
Raven Tape Music Room - Toronto ON
Mastered by Justin Gray - Immersive Mastering
<Click here to listen to I’ll Find You>
Tonight I watch the sun settle over Gulf waters
It speaks the end of day
How I’ve longed for this time with you
We run white beaches while Cat sings Ruby Love
Follow in the footsteps of our lives
And I’ll find you
While trickster boys laugh and volley by waterside
This music rises from my lips
Like white birds
They spreads my joy
And as the sun sets on golden sand
I see in it the reason for our lives
And I’ll find you
Tonight I watch the sun settle over Gulf waters
It speaks the end of day
How I’ve longed for this time with you
Now we lay in love as night birds cry
Tomorrow we’ll follow the sun
And I’ll find you - I find you…
©Fredrick Brooks
Watching the dolphins return in the evening.
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<Click here to listen to poem Martin>
Martin
Martin speaks
Spits tall tales from his gaping circular mouth
Laments of love’s perilous road
A day moon’s vanishing watery smile
He gives voice to the circle of harvest
A night’s early star
Whispers of great rivers murmuring
Hypnotic over jutting stone
Shows us a mystical field
Beneath a failing gibbous moon
Martin speaks - of diamond veins - red dirt roads
How crows lift - a pallid dancer moves.
Where coal miners rise
Martin beseches the invisible voices
To speak of their heavy load
Beneath my fingertips
In the cavern of wood and ribs
Lay images of my soul
The random voice of all I know
All I refuse
The angelic and the gutter
Written for my guitar
©Fredrick Brooks
Painting by Ruth Read