While I had a log of the song preserved, I failed to catch the title. If anyone knows it, feel free to send me a note and I'll fix it up.

Trul performed this at one of the contests sponsored by the Troupe of the Four Winds, I can't remember what she placed with it though.

Trul stands before you motionless, her eyes closed, breathing slowly... deeply... From behind her, a slow ballad begins to emanate from Taeliesin's Lyre.

Trul 's eyes open as she begins to sing.

"I saw her dance in Langen
With flowers in her hair
Moving as a shimmering breeze
And then she wasn't there."

"I happened through the ruin's once
Playing on my bones
Looked up and caught a glimpse of her
Dancing 'mid the stones"

"I say she's but a myth"
"Nae, I say, "she's real"
"I say, "she must be crazy,
That's just the way I feel."

"But what is this that's done it,
What's made her act so strange?"
Ah! but that's the easy part,
There is a man to blame."

"And she sways atop the mountains
She moves upon the hills
Where he leads she follows
As if she has no will"

"He moves about her softly
Whispering on the wind
And the way he feels against her
Is like magic on her skin"

"He rages deep within her
A passion yet untamed
She dances in his arms at night....
And music is his name"

Trul 's feet begin to move in concert with the intoxicating patter as if commanded by the beat.

Trul's supple form begins to sway from side to side, flowing with the rhythm of the music as she begins to dance in slow, lazy circles.

Trul dances faster her bare feet interpreting the music as they tap an intricate pattern into the stage.

Trul smiles at you, pauses to change direction... her dress curling softly around her legs.

Trul throws her head back and laughs with glee as the tempo grows ever faster.

Trul arches her neck and closes her eyes, her countenance becoming passion defined as she lifts her arms over her head and dances with total abandon.

Trul flows with the thrumming as she spins faster and faster, her form becoming a blur as the intense patter of the drumming crescendos, thundering violently across the stage before abruptly coming to a halt.

Trul falls to her knees, hair spilling over her shoulders and across her face. The sound of a lyre being strummed gently rises quietly behind her.

Trul slowly raises her head.

"He moves about her softly
Whispering on the wind
And the way he feels against her
Is magic on her skin"

"He rages within her
A passion yet untamed
And she dances in his arms at night.....
And music is his name"