The Widow in BlackA Poem by David Lewis PagetShe wanders the streets and alleyways When the nights are black as pitch, Under a starless canopy With the Moon drowned in a ditch, The gas lamps flicker and sputter out As the people peep through a crack, With their blinds drawn tight, they peer in fright For the ghostly Widow in Black. She comes by after a drenching rain With the gutters still awash, Arising out of the cemetery From the lands of Gog and Rosh. The Judge had peered with his cold black eyes At the prisoner, stood in the dock, Who shivered, waiting to greet the night In a plain and simple frock. He’d placed the silk on over his wig So she’d not have cause to hope, She knew by then that her certain end Was to hang at the end of a rope, She had two days to compose herself To make her peace with the Lord, The Chaplain said he would shrive her, but She saw him off with a word. They said she’d poisoned her husband, Well at least, her number three, The other two had gone to their graves Quite young, respectively, They dragged her up to the gallows as She kicked and screamed and cried, And as the rope was around her neck ‘They lied,’ she said, ‘they lied!’ They pulled the lever aside, but then The platform wouldn’t budge, She screamed: ‘The Devil is with me, and I’m going to get the Judge!’ They stomped and the platform fell away, So she fell right through the deck, The rope was taut in a moment, with A snap, it broke her neck! The Judge lies deep in his chambers with The door locked every night, He dare not light up a candle As it may give out a light, The blinds forever are fastened down, The windows, behind bars, Whenever the rain is pelting down And the clouds obscure the stars. For then he can hear the tap of steps And the last words that she cried, A shadow, clad in a cloak and cowl, A nightmare of a bride, He lies in terror, and waits for her To slide in through a crack, And take him off to the land of Gog With her, the Widow in Black! David Lewis Paget © 2013 David Lewis PagetFeatured Review
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