The Gravedigger Poem by David Lewis Paget

The Gravedigger



I was leaning on my shovel, in a hole
As black as pitch,
With a plug of fine tobacco in my pipe
To scratch my itch,
But I hadn't even lit it when
I heard the voices clear,
'You'll be married on the morrow,
We'll be rich within the year! '

I sat down and there I rested at the
Bottom of the grave
I'd been digging for a friend of mine,
Whose life I'd tried to save,
I could see the figures dimly, talking,
Plotting in the dark,
Then they kissed, and he went one way
While she tripped across the park.

It was not that they were strangers;
Her I knew as Anne Morrell,
And she cut a pretty figure with
Her bustle and her veil,
While the man was Terence Morgan,
He was just a local lout,
But he had a way with women, 'til
They found the beggar out!

So I clambered out the hole, and made
My way into the church,
And I looked for where the banns were posted,
There, inside the porch,
I saw that Ann Morrell was set
To marry Graham Pugh...
The local Ironmonger who
Was known as 'well-to-do.'

He was more than well-to-do, I thought,
He owned a string of shops,
And he sent goods to the colonies,
In fair exchange for crops,
His house was like a mansion in
Our tiny little town,
Where it sat up on the hill, where he
Could stand, and look on down.

So his bride-to-be was plotting, she was
Marrying for greed,
She had worked on Graham Pugh,
Worked on his loneliness and need,
He was in his middle forties,
Hadn't strayed across the line,
In amassing all his wealth, he said,
He'd never had the time.

So I thought I'd better warn him that
They'd sworn to take his life,
That they'd sealed it with a kiss, the
Local blackguard, and his wife,
That I'd heard them both conspire about
The wealth they thought he had,
If he married her tomorrow, knowing this,
He must be mad!

So I walked on up the hill, and strode
Right through his fancy gates,
Up the drive that went forever,
Past the poplars in my haste,
And I beat upon the knocker, thinking
He'd invite me in,
But he kept me standing on the step;
'Your story's rather thin! '

I'm quite ashamed of what I did, but this
Was life or death,
I stayed awake all night that night,
Could scarcely catch my breath,
So many things to do and plan,
The morning came at last,
The wedding party turned up late,
They all wore party masks.

I'll have to dig that grave again, I
Somehow filled it in,
And Terence Morgan quit the town,
He's not been seen since then,
While Graham Pugh woke up, I think
En route to Aberdeen,
Quite safe from plotting women, and
Unmarried, it would seem.

While down the aisle the bride had swept
In ribbons, veil and lace,
The veil so thick, she couldn't see
Her hand before her face,
I wore my collar high that day,
Top hat and tails, you see,
And when I turned to kiss the bride...
She found she'd married me!

17 June 2010

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Paul Judges 17 June 2010

A well written poem

0 0 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
David Lewis Paget

David Lewis Paget

Nottingham, England/live in Australia
Close
Error Success