The Lyrics

Lavender’s Blue

Lavender’s blue, dilly dilly

Lavender’s Green

When I am King, dilly dilly

You shall be Queen

Lavender’s green, dilly dilly

Lavender’s blue

You must love me, dilly dilly

As I love you

Down in the vale, dilly dilly

Where flowers grow

And the birds sing, dilly dilly

All in a row

Now you and I, dilly dilly

Two become one

And we shall lie, dilly dilly

No more alone

Traditional (arranged/adapted by Beck Sian).

Vocals, tin-whistle & guitar by Beck Sian.

Harpsichord/keyboards & bass by Chris Gill.

In the Greenery

In the greenery

You tore my heart from my chest

In the greenery

You stopped the song from my Red-Breast

But other birds

Continued singing

As you ground my joy into the ground, killjoy

Like a snail beneath your shoe

Like a snail beneath your shoe

Beneath your shoe

In the Greenery

Words & music by Beck Sian

Vocals & Beryl’s old piano by Beck Sian

Bird-song by Mr. Robin

The Garden Seat

Its former green is blue and thin

And its once firm legs sink in and in;

Soon it will break down unaware

Soon it will break down unaware.

At night when reddest flowers are black

Those who once sat thereon come back;

Quite a row of them sitting there

Quite a row of them sitting there.

With them the seat does not break down,

Nor winter freeze them, nor floods drown,

For they are as light as upper air,

They are as light as upper air!

And the foxgloves bend their weary heads

And I see you there in the flower beds

Just a glimpse but then you’re gone

A brief melody in a moment’s song.

Words in the first three verses by Thomas Hardy (arranged/adapted by Beck Sian).

Words in final verse (And the foxgloves… ) by Beck Sian.

Music, vocals & guitar by Beck Sian.

I Just Am

I’m finding myself now

I’m finding myself

I’ve found that I am lost

I’ve come to realise

That there’s no ideal ‘me’

That I can’t put myself in a box

There is no description

To befit who I am

Or how I am, or why, or what

I’ve got to stop trying

So hard to define me

I have to accept that I just ‘am’.

Words, music, vocals & guitar by Beck Sian.

Siúil a Rúin

I would I were on yonder hill

’Tis there I’d sit and cry my fill

’Til every tear would turn a mill

Is go dté tú mo mhúirnin slán

I’ll sell my rock, I’ll sell my reel

I’ll sell my only spinning wheel

To buy my love a sword of steel

Is go dté tú mo mhúirnin slán

Siúil, siúil, siúil a rúin

Siúil go sochair agus siúil go ciúin

Siúil go dorus agus éalaigh liom

Is go dté tú mo mhúirnin slán

I’ll dye my petticoats, I’ll dye them red

And it’s ‘round the world I’ll beg for bread

Until my parents would wish me dead

Is go dté tú mo mhúirnin slán

Siúil, siúil, siúil a rúin

Siúil go sochair agus siúil go ciúin

Siúil go dorus agus éalaigh liom

Is go dté tú mo mhúirnin slán

I wish, I wish, I wish in vain

I wish I had my heart again

And vainly think I’d not complain

Is go dté tú mo mhúirnin slán

And now my love has gone to France

To try his fortune to advance

If he e’er comes back ’tis but a chance

Is go dté tú mo mhúirnin slán

Siúil, siúil, siúil a rúin

Siúil go sochair agus siúil go ciúin

Siúil go dorus agus éalaigh liom

Is go dté tú mo mhúirnin slán

Traditional Irish (arranged/adapted by Beck Sian).

Vocals by Beck Sian.

Down by the Salley Gardens

Down by the salley gardens my love and I did meet;

She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white feet.

She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree;

But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree.

In a field down by the river my love and I did stand,

And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand.

She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs;

But I was young and foolish, and now I’m full of tears.

Words by W. B. Yeats (arranges/altered/adapted by Beck Sian).

Music traditional (arranged/adapted by Beck Siàn).

Vocals, tin-whistle, guitar by Beck Sian.

Electric guitar & bass by Chris Gill.

In a Secret Garden

The garden is unearthly, hidden

Behind ivy-clad walls

A swing-seat creaks in the

Rusty breeze

Words, music, vocals & keyboards by Beck Sian.

Bushes & Briars

Through bushes and through briars

I lately took my way

All for to hear the small birds sing

One grey and stormy day

I overheard my own true love

His voice it was so clear

Long time I have been waiting for

The coming of my dear

I drew myself up into a tree

A tree that was so green

Where the green leaves shaded over me

I scarcely could be seen

And as I sat a-weeping

A fine young man came by

“What ails you my jewel?

My jewel, what makes you cry?”

At night in my sweet slumber

I dream that I see

My own dearest lover

Come smiling to me

But when I awaken

I find it is not so

Mine eyes are like fountains

Where water doth flow

I’ll spread a sail of silver

I’ll steer towards the sun

And my false love will weep for me

He’ll weep when I am gone

Through bushes and through briars

I lately took my way

All for to hear the small birds sing

One grey and stormy day

Words and music traditional (arranged/altered/adapted by Beck Sian - this song was created by combining words from two traditional ballads - ‘Bushes & Briars’, and ‘As Sylvie Was Walking’).

Vocals and guitar by Beck Sian.

Keyboards by Chris Gill.

Old Mr. Crow

Knock, knock, knock and he wants to come in

He’s woken me again and it’s 6am

Mr. Crow, Mr. Crow

He’s seen his reflection and he wants a big fight

He’s banging on the glass all day and night - well not quite, it just seems like it

Mr. Crow, Mr. Crow

I wouldn’t mind so much but my alarm was set for eight

So I’ve lost two hour’s sleep and I went to bed late

Mr. Crow, Mr. Crow

He’s on the window ledge and he’s staring at me

It’s a steadfast glare, unwavering

Mr. Crow, Mr. Crow

One crow sorrow

Two crows mirth

Three crows marriage

Four crows birth

Five crows silver

Six crows gold

Seven crows a secret

Never to be told

It’s a murder of crows

And they’re just a stone’s throw away

Mr. Crow, Mr. Crow

I wonder what he’s thinking

My black-feathered sunrise

A cunning sheened green-wing

I hope he won’t pluck out my eyes!

Words, music, vocals and guitar by Beck Sian

Tall, Waving Delphiniums in Storm-light

We’ll play hide-and-seek in storm-light

Amongst topiary and yew

Thunder rumbles ‘round

Gravel crunches under-foot

Stone peacocks try to preen

And the griffin

Attempts to fly

As we run through

Tall, waving Delphiniums

Delphiniums

We’ll play hide-and-seek

In storm-light

Words, music & vocals by Beck Sian.

Keyboards by Chris Gill.

Thornfield

Please see me

Please see me

As I wish to be seen

As the ‘me’ in my dreams

As I would have been

As I could have been

Here I stand

Right here before you

I can’t ignore you

Waiting for you

But all you see

All you see

Is shadow…

But I’m no caged bird

And I can still fly

I’m no caged bird

And I can still fly

Meet me in the garden

You can be my Rochester

I’ll be your Jane Eyre

For I’m just as plain

Though I’ve longer hair

But I’m no caged bird

And I can still fly

I’m no caged bird

And I can still fly

I know that I’m foolish to fall

For forbidden fruit

Lured by the promise of it all

Though we shouldn’t suit

Lightning strikes ands splits our tree

The fire rages, tries to take you from me

But I’m no caged bird

And I can still fly

I’m no caged bird

And I can still fly

I’m no caged bird

And I can still fly

Please see me

Please see me

As I wish to be seen

As the ‘me’ in my dreams

As I would have been

As I could have been

Words, music, vocals & acoustic guitar by Beck Sian

Electric guitar by Chris Gill.

The Topiary Garden

I hear green whispers in the garden

I feel the old ghosts floating through

Trees are bright with wings

Sunlight through the jade, cooling shade

Can you hear, can you hear?

I still expect to look up

And see you standing there

With your glittering shiny brooches

And your untamed sliver hair

Can you hear?

Whistling through the lavender twilight

Whistling through the lavender twilight

Words, vocal melody & vocals by Beck Sian.

Music by Chris Gill.

Whistling, keyboards & guitars by Chris Gill.

She Moved Through the Faire

My young love said to me,

“My mother won’t mind

And my father won’t slight you

For your lack of kine.”

Then she stepped away from me

And this she did say,

“It will not be long, love

’til our wedding day.”

She stepped away from me

And she moved through the faire

And fondly I watched her

Go here and go there,

Then she went her way homeward

With one star awake

As the swan in the evening

Moves over the lake.

The people were saying

No two were e’er wed,

But one has a sorrow

That never was said,

And I smiled as she passed me

With her goods and her gear

And that was the last that I saw of my dear.

Last night she came to me

My dead love came in

So softly she came in

That her feet made no din

She put her hand on me

And this she did say,

“It will not be long, love,

’til our wedding day.”

Lyrics - Traditional/Padraic Colum (arranged/altered/adapted by Beck Sian).

Music - Traditional.

Vocals & guitar by Beck Sian.

Keyboards by Chris Gill.

Weep Ye No More, Sad Fountains

Weep yo no more, sad fountains

What need ye flow so fast?

Look how the snowy mountains

Winter’s sun doth gently waste!

But my sun’s wintery eyes

View not your weeping,

That now lies sleeping

Softly, now softly lies

Sleeping.

Sleep is a reconciling,

A rest that peace begets.

Doth not the sun rise smiling

When fair at even he sets?

Rest you then, rest, sad eyes,

Melt not in weeping

While she lies sleeping

Softly, now softly lies, Sleeping.

Words - Anonymous - 16th century (arranged/altered/adapted by Beck Sian).

Music, vocals and keyboards by Beck Sian.

Keyboards by Chris Gill.

BONUS TRACKS:

Moss (Live)

Words in 1st verse & chorus by Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809-92)

Arranged & adapted by Beck Sian.

Words in 2nd verse by Beck Sian.

Music, vocals & guitar by Beck Sian.

Thornfield (acoustic)

Words, music, vocals and guitar by Beck Sian.

Recording Details and Extra Notes

All songs on ‘Luminous Wings & Unseen Things’ were recorded at ‘Mathrafal’ and Criggion Studio, Wales, and engineered by Chris Gill, except ‘In a Secret Garden’ and ‘Down by the Salley Gardens’ - recorded initially by Neil Darbyshire at Web, with extra recording on ‘Salley Gardens’ by Chris Gill.

Produced by Beck Sian and Chris Gill.

Mixed by Chris Gill - with the tiniest bit of assistance by Beck Sian.

Mastered by Steve Kitch.

Photographs by Krystyna FitzGerald-Morris and Chris Gill.

Design & layout by Beck Sian, Krystyna & Peter FitzGerald-Morris.

Front cover photo and design by Krystyna FitzGerald-Morris.

All lyrics & music by Beck Sian unless otherwise stated (note: Chris Gill wrote the stunning music for ‘The Topiary Garden’).

© Beck Sian/Haunted Forest Productions 2009. All rights reserved.

Published by Beck Sian/Haunted Forest Productions 2009. All rights reserved.

‘Luminous Wings & Unseen Things’ is dedicated to Kate Bush, Jane Austen & Vali Myers, without whom I would not be Beck Sian.

For your support of, and contributions to this CD, thank you with all my heart to… Chris Gill, Krystyna & Peter FitzGerald-Morris, Adrian Nunn, Neil Darbyshire & Matthew Callow. Thanks also to Steve, Sarah & Charlotte of ‘Whalebone’ for your friendship and belief - it has meant more to me than you know, and to my family and friends who encourage me and help me keep the dreams alive, including everyone mentioned above, and Stax, Cher, Pami Gill, Sue, Paul, Michelle & Tracey, Gary Quinn, Geoffles, Mezza, Beryl Jones, Helen & Kev, Shelley & Ali & David, Ralph Rea, Niki Robson, Phyllis Evans, Dave Robson, Dan Robson, Steve Kitch, Katrina Gill & the gang at Bridge Garage :-)

The Lyrics


Wycoller Hall

Grey… hollow casements

Dark birds fly through

Wet… shattered walls

Of moss and mildew.

Sad… cold sky

And lonely, old stone

Damp… chilled air;

Dreams that have flown.

Silent are the fragments

Hushes are the leaves

Just the time-shattering cry

Of the rooks in the trees.

Lyrics & music by Beck Sian.
Acoustic guitar & vocals by Beck Sian
Keyboards by Steve Palmer

© Beck Siàn/Haunted Forest Productions 2012

The Black Silk Handkerchief

A wealthy squire lived in our town

He was a man of high renown

He had one daughter, a beauty bright

And the name he called her was his ‘Heart’s Delight’

Many young men to court her came

But none of them could her favour gain

Till there came one of the low degree

And above them all she did fancy he

But when her father he came to know

That his only daughter loved this young man so

Over fifty miles he sent her away

All to deprive her of her wedding day

One night as she lay in her bedroom

Her love appeared from out the gloom

He touched her hand and to her did say,

“Arise my darling and come away”

With this young man she got on behind

And they rode swifter than any wind

They rode on for five hours or more

Till he cried, “My darling, my head feels sore!”

A black silk handkerchief she then took out

And with it wrapped his aching head about

She kissed his lips and these words did say,

“My love you are colder than any clay”

When they arrived at her father’s gate

He said, “Get down, love, for the hour is late!

Get down, get down, love, and go to bed

And I’ll see this gallant horse is groomed and fed”


Then she arrived at her father’s hall

“Who’s there, who’s there now?”, her father called

“’Tis I dear father, you sent for me

and my love was the messenger, was sent by thee”

“Oh no my daughter, that can never be

Your words are false and you lie to me

For on yonder mountain your young man died

And in yon green meadow his body lies”

The truth then dawned upon this lady brave

And with her friends they exposed the grave

There lay her love though nine months dead

With a black silk handkerchief tied ‘round his head.

Based upon ‘The Holland Handkerchief’ (Traditional - Arranged/altered/adapted by Beck Sian)

Music by Beck Sian and Steve Palmer

Vocals by Beck Sian.

© Beck Siàn/Haunted Forest Productions 2012

The Moon on the 13th

It’s moonlit tonight

I can see my way

But I don’t know where I’m going

Around a corner

Across the moors

A warm light shines

On dark stone walls

But who’s within

& who’s without?

& I feel alone

But I know

I’m not alone

There are footsteps behind me

Always

Footsteps behind me.

Lyrics & vocals by Beck Sian

Music by Steve Palmer

© Beck Siàn/Haunted Forest Productions 2012

Ye Olde Silent Inn

On twisting roads

Through pale green I came

Ever-stretching pale green

And russet bracken

And heather-lined lanes

And the wind moaned as an old man

With arthritic knees

Bones creaking and rustling like leaves

And the wind… wuthers.

I enter the inn: it is warm within

Test the windows: check the doors

The locks are fast: the bolts are drawn

But whose little faces stare at me

From between the banisters?

Keep silent

Keep silent

And the wind… wuthers.

Rain rattles the window panes

Something glides just out of sight

A storm-whipped night

A storm-whipped night

It’s a wicked night for one to be out on the moors

From whence come the bells?

From beneath the gnarled trees?

Or between the wind-blasted tussocks

And skeletal leaves?

And the wind… wuthers.

Inside the warm inn,

Long shadows fall

But who’s that calling out on the moor?

A moth beats its grey, dusty wings against the glass

And the wind… wuthers.

Lyrics, music, acoustic guitar and vocals by Beck Sian.

© Beck Siàn/Haunted Forest Productions 2012

Down in Yon Forest

Down in yon forest there stands a hall

The phantom bells I heard them ring

It’s covered all over in purple and pall

And I love my love above anything.

In that hall there stands a bed

The phantom bells I heard them ring

It’s covered all over in scarlet and red

And I love my love above anything.

At the bed’s foot there grows a thorn

The phantom bells I heard them ring

It flowers and blossoms at dusk and at dawn

And I love my love above anything.

Under that bed there runs a flood

The phantom bells I heard them ring

The half it runs water: the half it runs blood

And I love my love above anything.

Over that bed the moon shines bright

The phantom bells I heard them ring

I sense he is here again with me this night

And I love my love above anything.

Traditional - Arranged/altered/adapted by Beck Sian

Vocals by Beck Sian

© Beck Siàn/Haunted Forest Productions 2012

The Dark Stairs

The small flame falters

And I hesitate

Upon dark stairs

Old stairs made of ships’ timber

Still groaning on the waves.

Flocked wallpaper dances

In the shifting light.

A swish of trailing garments

Chilling by

Somewhere a door opens

Slams shut again

Heavy steps creak the boards

A low voice murmurs

Psss-psss-psss

A dark shadow moans past.

(I’m brushing past you now

I’m brushing past you now).

Lyrics & vocals by Beck Sian

Music by Chris Gill

© Beck Siàn/Haunted Forest Productions 2012

The Moors

Sensuous wind, foxy wind,

You whip the sad skin from my face

Battered by you, my careworn soul sings,

O mistress of this spirit place

Toes in heather on the lonely moor,

There’s a hole in my heart and the wind moans through

Looking out on the lonely moor,

There’s a hole in my heart and the wind moans through

I am as wind-torn as that ravaged hawthorn

Yes, I am as wind-torn as that ravaged hawthorn.

Lyrics & vocals by Beck Sian

Music by Chris Gill

© Beck Siàn/Haunted Forest Productions 2012

Lady of the Wind

The wind has the heart of a wicked child

That laughs and moans when she sings -

The wind will come to you whenever she is wild,

Just let her in, let her in.

When the wind blows, open your windows;

When the wind roars, pull her indoors,

For the wind is a person, pretty and fearsome,

With a force so vast she can haul down the past,

Or cast her whispers, like a gang of giggling sisters,

In a corner, in a nook, or across the pages of an open book.

Feel the wind as she snuffles at your skin,

In her playful haste she might just brush your face,

Taste your thoughts and what you’ve caught,

Then chase a hair left behind by someone fair,

Bare the covered table, like wind from a fable,

Or smash all your windows with a poke of her elbow.

Lasting just a beat, she clears away the heat

Of nights of summer passion, turned grey and ashen,

She fashions shapes from smoke of midnight tokes,

Long gone rotten, into ghosts best forgotten.

Cottons swirl and flap, water sprays across the tap

As she strokes your back, sighs and then goes slack.

Across the misted glass the wind is flying past -

Let her into your room, let her rattle and boom;

With a flick of her tail she’ll scatter your mail,

With a toss of her mane she clears away rain,

With a thump of her knees she can flatter trees,

With a kiss of her lips she can blow us to bits.

Can you hear her Slamming all your doors,

Tugging at the bolts on all your winter stores,

Coming up the stairs and then across your floors

To try and open all your secret, hidden drawers?

Here comes that wind tapping with her salty paws,

Here comes that wind running along your corridors.

Tacking over the bedclothes she licks and throws

The silks of leisure over the creases of pleasure.

Treasure the lady of the wind for she whips away sin

With her sweeping fins flipping over edge and rim,

Scattering empty tins and knocking over your bins:

But to clean what has been, you must first let her in.

When the wind blows, open your windows;

When the wind roars, pull her indoors,

For the wind is a person, pretty and fearsome,

With a force so vast she can haul down your past,

Or cast her whispers, like a gang of giggling sisters,

In a corner, in a nook, or across the pages of an open book.

The wind has the heart of a wicked child

That laughs and moans when she sings -

The wind will come to you when she’s wild,

Just let her in, let her in.

Words by John Carder Bush (reprinted here by kind permission of John Carder Bush)

Vocals by Beck Sian and John Carder Bush

Violin by Raven Bush

Music by Beck Sian

© Beck Siàn/Haunted Forest Productions 2012

Molly Malone

In Dublin’s fair city, where the girls are so pretty

I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone

As she wheeled her wheelbarrow

Through streets broad and narrow

Crying, “Cockles and mussels alive a-live O!”

She was a fishmonger and sure it was no wonder

For so were her father and brother before

And they both wheeled their barrows

Through streets broad and narrow

Crying, “Cockles and mussels alive a-live O!”

“A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!”

Crying, “Cockles and mussels alive a-live O!”

She died of a fever and no one could save her

And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone

Now her ghost wheels her barrow

Through streets broad and narrow

Crying, “Cockles and mussels alive a-live O!”

“A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!”

Crying, “Cockles and mussels alive a-live O!”

Traditional. Arranged/adapted by Beck Sian

Vocals by Beck Sian

© Beck Siàn/Haunted Forest Productions 2012

The Old Clock on the Stairs

Somewhat back from the village street

Stands the old-fashioned country seat.

Across its antique portico

Tall poplar trees their shadows throw;

And from its station in the hall

An ancient timepiece says it all -

“Forever - never!

Never - forever!”

Half-way up the stairs it stands,

And points and beckons with its hands

From its case of massive oak,

Like a monk, who, under his cloak,

Crosses himself, and sighs, alas!

With sorrowful voice to all who pass, -

“Forever - never!

Never - forever!”

By day its voice is low and light;

But in the silent dead of night,

Distinct as a passing footstep’s fall,

It echoes along the vacant hall,

Along the ceiling, along the floor,

And seems to say at each chamber-door, -

“Forever - never!

Never - forever!”

In that mansion used to be

Free-hearted hospitality;

His great fires up the chimney roared;

The stranger feasted at his board,

But, like the skeleton at the feast,
That warning timepiece never ceased, -

“Forever - never!

Never - forever!”

From that chamber, clothed in white,

The bride came forth on her wedding night;

There, in that silent room below,

The dead lay in his shroud of snow;

And in the hush that followed the prayer,

Was heard the old clock on the stair, -

“Forever - never!

Never - forever!”

All are scattered now and fled,

Some are married, some are dead;

And when I ask, with throbs of pain,

“Ah! When shall they all meet again?”

As in the days long since gone by,

The ancient timepiece makes reply, -

“Forever - never!

Never - Forever!”

Based on a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Arranged/altered/adapted by Beck Sian

Acoustic guitar and vocals by Beck Sian

Special guest musicians ‘Whalebone’ (Guitar by Char Watson, guitar by Steve Downs and fiddle by Sarah Ibberson)

© Beck Siàn/Haunted Forest Productions 2012

Her Soul to a Highwayman

He emerged from the dark trees

Paused in the moonlit clearing

Her feet moved forward

Magnetic pull

An old soul, she thought

An old soul

She had to touch him

Mesmerised by his eyes

Then only a breath between them

Those dark, dark eyes

Her sighs, her sighs

His head to the left

His teeth to her neck

Nipples tingling and hardening

Mmmmmmmmmm

A strong, rough hand

On her lower back

Another in her hair

Fingers through her hair

Then lips bruising lips

Mouths open, tongues colliding

Sighs from hips to fingertips

And she was crushed

Against his chest

His scent was wild:

Trodden leaves and earth and rain

And at his nape

Her fingers found leather

And tugged and pulled

A long black cascade tumbled around

Moonlit faces

All amongst the heather

All amongst the heather

Lyrics and vocals by Beck Sian

Music by Chris Gill

© Beck Siàn/Haunted Forest Productions 2012

Top Withens

Acoustic guitar, music and vocals by Beck Sian

© Beck Siàn/Haunted Forest Productions 2012

Tales of a Wayside Inn

The windows of the wayside inn

Gleams red with fire-light through the leaves

With crimson curtains rent and thin

And woodbine hanging from the eaves.

A kind of old hobgoblin hall

Now somewhat fallen to decay

With weather-stains upon the wall

And old scents which won’t fade away.

A region of repose it seems

And stairways worn, and crazy doors,

A place of slumber and of dreams

Of creaking and uneven floors.

The fire-light shedding over all

It crowns the sombre clock with flame

It gleams on wainscot and on wall

And flashes on the window-pane.

Before the blazing fire of wood

A bowing phantom musician stood

And ever and anon he bent

His head upon his instrument.

The shadows on the wainscot stirred

And from the harpsichord there came

Slipping forth through time was heard

A ghostly murmur of acclaim.

Words from a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Arranged/altered/adapted by Beck Sian

Music, acoustic guitar and vocals by Beck Sian

© Beck Siàn/Haunted Forest Productions 2012

The Mirror in the Deserted Hall

A flicker in the mirror

Over the shoulder

A glimpse of white

Mist in flight

A glimmer of face

Gliding by, out of place

A displaced sigh

Shuffling by

A creak of boards

A scratch of mice

A groan of doors

And those watching unseen eyes…

Can I share this house with you?

Can we co-exist?

Me with haunted face by day

And you lost in the mist…

Lyrics and vocals by Beck Sian

Music by Chris Gill

© Beck Siàn/Haunted Forest Productions 2012