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poetry by lou sid linesman - on life, love & politics
Saturday, March 18, 2006
Woman-Child
Woman-child, woman-child, snatched up unfair
From her sweet childhood meadows to sheer mountain side,
No freedom to seek, no small place to hide,
So so young with no way but to rise-up to care.
Woman-child, woman-child, remember me?
The son on safe low-lying green plains confined,
And made to fear heights for a false peace of mind,
The boy who was never a man meant to be.
Woman-child, woman-child, reached out to me,
Pulled me up high where the world I did see,
Showed me life’s beauty, what really could be,
We held hands with our liberty in destiny’s majesty.
Woman-child, woman-child, wanted to fall,
Wanted to rest in those pastures below,
Grasped as I swayed, though her balance would go,
But first kissed me and passed on her vision of All.
Woman-child, woman-child, climb up with me,
And that child you’re protecting still now you’re full-grown
Leave back down in those fields, to be with my own
And to run, sing and play...and be glad...to be free.
© Lou Sid Linesman, 2006. All Rights Reserved.
