You may have heard of me. My name is Ruth
It’s written on the Cross for all to see
I cried on God as witness to the truth
And died, and here inscribed my history
The tales they told of me – they said I lied
Defied my God before I breathed my last
They said they found the money hid inside
My hand when half a century had passed
You will have heard of me. A widow, I
Came all the way from Potterne in the rain
In winter, to the Market Place, to buy
Eternal shame – I only came for grain
All Wiltshire’s heard of me. My name is Ruth
I may have lied. To God be known the truth
Devizes Market Place
The Old Lights Of Christmas
Devizes, Wiltshire; New Year’s Eve…
*
The cyclist sees, in the edge of her eye
Fireworks flash in the distant beyond
Ghostly swans on the dark of the pond
The old lights of Christmas go glittering by
The cyclist sees, in the edge of her eye
Houses shimmer with sparkling rain
Curtains drawn on sorrow and pain
The old lights of Christmas go glittering by
The cyclist sees, in the edge of her eye
Stars wheel over the Market Place
The shift of a shadow on Ceres’ face
The old lights of Christmas go glittering by
*
© Gail Foster 31st December 2016
The Fountain
The Estcourt Fountain, Devizes Market Place, this afternoon
*
by Gail
gailfromdevizes 