Lorethe Family

These men, they sail in wood so grand,
In little boats they come to land.

They offer things no one has seen
And ask for water fast and clean.

We drink with thanks from earth’s reserve.
They have no thanks but “He” they serve.

They cannot show this “He” they state.
“She’s” everywhere from moon to lake.

They put a cross upon her hill
And praise this man who’s tortured ill.

They put a cross into our home
And place a block of kneeling stone.

And touch their hearts, these deathly men,
And nod their heads and say “Amen.”

They worship death and pain and woe
And cannot see earth’s give and grow.

My wife and child, they also see,
This trespass of their misery.

But I will look upon “His” face
And learn some lesson for my race;

And tell my wife and child of three;
And tell my whole society.

That “Earth” is not replaced by “He.”
“She’s” still alive and we are free.

© Sean G. O’Leary 1995

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