The touch was so light that it passed by unnoticed.
The crowd was so dense, who could possibly tell
that there in the crush was a desperate woman,
a woman entombed by her personal hell.
The touch was so light and yet someone had noticed –
the man at the centre; the man in demand;
the healer whose presence was urgently sought for
a child who was needing the power from his hand.
The touch turned his head as he wondered who’d done it.
The poor guilty woman was bowed by her shame.
But power had gone from him, he knew he was needed.
With fear she admitted that she was to blame.
Verses 4-5 follow
©Marjorie Dobson 11/11/2010
Metre: 12 11 12 11
Tune: Streets of Laredo
The crowd was so dense, who could possibly tell
that there in the crush was a desperate woman,
a woman entombed by her personal hell.
The touch was so light and yet someone had noticed –
the man at the centre; the man in demand;
the healer whose presence was urgently sought for
a child who was needing the power from his hand.
The touch turned his head as he wondered who’d done it.
The poor guilty woman was bowed by her shame.
But power had gone from him, he knew he was needed.
With fear she admitted that she was to blame.
Verses 4-5 follow
©Marjorie Dobson 11/11/2010
Metre: 12 11 12 11
Tune: Streets of Laredo
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