At The Merry Inn... Poem by Ruth Rayment

Give me a shilling
Give me a note
Give me a gun
I’ll sing you a merry note
Give me your weapons
Go down on your knees
Place your hands on the floor
And beg for your life
No catches, no deeds
I’d bye you a drink
If I wasn’t so weak
I’d shake your hand
If I didn’t need a leak
I’d stay down there
If you want to live
Approaching me up here
Well you wouldn’t have time
To give…


Tuesday 14th June 2005
By Ruth Rayment