I didn't travel far to find you,
I didn't cross a frozen waste,
there were no dangers that I had to face.
I had no need to be a hero,
no kind of rescue was required,
there was no earthquake, famine, flood or fire.

So if you dreamt of shining armour, I'm sorry but it wasn't me;
a handsome knight I will not ever be. We didn't write an epic romance,

a tale of love that must be told -
the movie rights will not be bought or sold.

I don't recall the day I met you,
I can't remember what you wore,
maybe I learnt your name and nothing more. There was no flash of recognition
that you would be my one true love,
I heard no angels in the sky above.

But you're the one I love,
and what we share is real,
maybe as deep as any star-crossed lovers, you and me, you and me.

Dorothy and I started "going together" on April 15th, 1966. We had been friends for a couple of years, had known each other since we were 7, but that day marked an enormous change in our relationship. So, I wanted to write a song for our 30th anniversary. It was completed a few days after the event. I had started with the image of the queen bee(?) whose wings are broken, meaning she can never leave the nest. But I'm good at digressions, and I finished up with a tribute to the ordinary, a paean of praise for non-romance and anti- heroism


Thanks ...

Last Monday, November 19, I got back home after a 4 week trip, mostly in Queensland.Only possible because of
Ray Shillabeer.
He's been my driver for the past 7½ years, for trips to Victoria, ACT, NSW and Queensland. He likes to label himself as 'Ray the Roadie', but he's a lot more than that. For the churches & schools I've sung at, we both set up the sound gear - the amps, guitars et al. He then retires to a back seat, while I sing & play. Afterwards, at schools, we take the gear down together. But at churches, he looks after the gear, while I talk with people & sell CDs & books. We get to stay with people most places , & we both love meeting people, enjoying their terrific hospitality.
This trip was his swan-song. I know he's enjoyed the driving & meeting people, but I still don't know how to say thank you. In his modest, self deprecating way, he'd reject the label of 'Servant of Christ', but he's been that for me, & together we've been able to serve people in many places.