Roy Wilders trusts his dreams and wherever it is that they may lead him.

Sitting out the back behind a supermarket with his acoustic guitar.

Rocking Dublin’s venues to their foundation with Heaven’s Trail.

Gigging a summer season in the Mediterranean sun.

Checking out the scene in London with no guarantees.

Dropping in and out of bands. Guest spots.

His smoky voice and the integrity of him mesmerising the listeners.

His dreams are saying - keep it going    trust me   I will take you there.

Roy is thinking   that’s all very well...but where?

All of a sudden he’s in Switzerland. Southern Comfort.

Major gigs. Stadia.

When he takes the microphone he is where he belongs.

His voice becomes a strong brown wind roaring out of a canyon.

Then it is as soft as one of his songs.

It does not surprise me in the least to learn

that he is someplace else.

Love takes him there. Love and the glory of his dreams.

He’s in Australia now.

If someone tells me he’s on the moon

I will know that there’s a stage up there too

and a band

and a microphone

and Roy is powering around out front

leading the lot of them on to Kingdom Come!

It’s where he belongs.

I am proud that he’s my friend.


Dublin Ireland

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