Neena

Diamond
Posts:
78
Joined:
Sep 26, 2006
Status:
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Zodiac:
Chinese:
Posted Wed Apr 11, 2007 9:08 pm...
I am not a good poet, so hope you dont mind my posting of my poem.
Medicine Woman
Her eyes hold wisdom, her touch is soft
Drying herbs hang down from her loft
She is quiet; she hears the voice
She knows she has to make a choice.
Some one has come to her for help
She heard the sound of pain, a yelp
Now before her a sweet soul lies
She see's the tears in the child's frightened eyes.
She breathes in deep, and petitions the Sprirt for aid
Over her shoulder she places her braid
She kneels down close to the little child
Her touch and voice are oh so mild.
She touches here and touches there,
Then runs gnarled fingers through tussled hair
She has decieded what must be done
She knows this wont be any fun.
She makes a glass of Willow bark tea,
Saying" Drink this, soon better you'll be.
As she sets the broken bone,
She tells the child he is not alone.
The child is brave, no cries he makes.
But the pain in his eyes he cannot fake,
Wiping the sweat off of her brow,
She tells him Just a little more now.
With water and herbs set to simmer.
In her eyes there comes a glimmer.
The bone will mend,the will be good use
if the bindings aren't kept to loose.
As she cleans the blood away
She knows he will play another day.
With worry gone and great full heart
The father and the son depart.
She turns around and with a sigh;
Tears start to fall; she starts to cry
She is happy, filled with joy
She saved the life of that young boy.
When he has children of his own
He will understand how to mend a bone
He will learn the sacred ways
A healer in his own late days.
He will feel the joy and sorrow too
But he will know just what to do
He will have learned by doing as the woman said
And great wisdom will fill his head
Then he will truly understand
The importance of a gentle hand.
Medicine Woman
Her eyes hold wisdom, her touch is soft
Drying herbs hang down from her loft
She is quiet; she hears the voice
She knows she has to make a choice.
Some one has come to her for help
She heard the sound of pain, a yelp
Now before her a sweet soul lies
She see's the tears in the child's frightened eyes.
She breathes in deep, and petitions the Sprirt for aid
Over her shoulder she places her braid
She kneels down close to the little child
Her touch and voice are oh so mild.
She touches here and touches there,
Then runs gnarled fingers through tussled hair
She has decieded what must be done
She knows this wont be any fun.
She makes a glass of Willow bark tea,
Saying" Drink this, soon better you'll be.
As she sets the broken bone,
She tells the child he is not alone.
The child is brave, no cries he makes.
But the pain in his eyes he cannot fake,
Wiping the sweat off of her brow,
She tells him Just a little more now.
With water and herbs set to simmer.
In her eyes there comes a glimmer.
The bone will mend,the will be good use
if the bindings aren't kept to loose.
As she cleans the blood away
She knows he will play another day.
With worry gone and great full heart
The father and the son depart.
She turns around and with a sigh;
Tears start to fall; she starts to cry
She is happy, filled with joy
She saved the life of that young boy.
When he has children of his own
He will understand how to mend a bone
He will learn the sacred ways
A healer in his own late days.
He will feel the joy and sorrow too
But he will know just what to do
He will have learned by doing as the woman said
And great wisdom will fill his head
Then he will truly understand
The importance of a gentle hand.
Last edited by Neena on Wed Apr 11, 2007 10:45 pm; edited 1 times in total













I hope to see more of your poetry in the future as well!

