The evening spotlights
Shine on the walls
Of David's ancient abbey.
Raised by Border people
And peasant Picts.
Shadows and silhouettes
Fill threholds that once
Let light and glory in.
Foundation walls protect
Winds still whispering
In Gothic naves.
A thousand years of stories
Are sounded in her bells.
Night surrounds Jedburgh Abbey.
I strained my sight for movement
Of Augustinians who thrived
In cloisters and walled streets,
For a story to bring home,
Of phantom cloak or hood
Disappearing on ramparts,
Or passing an empty window.
Just a sound, or simple wail
Would do.
Just then, dark legs
Swooshed past,
Fitted in knee-high boots.
I lost my thoughts
Of ghosts and sprites
With an astral figure in tights.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem