The story started with a name
and with it came
the words
and the life
and the pain

the unborn child
unripe, bitter and mild
had grown up in the woodland summers
had grown up with rivers and thunders
had lived without care
carefree as it would be
and who knew the name would be there?

but, i digress
my case i must rest
my opinion is studied and true
without the name
then no story became
and no child is born from the stew.