Maddy Prior
A voice she plays as an instrument
Sliding over the frets,
Pulling them, stretching the strings.
The words don’t matter.
It’s that voice from a medieval village fair,
Rising above the noise and chatter
Of the market that beckons.
“Come, buy my wares,
Fresh produce from tree and garden.
Chickens live or plucked and gutted.
Come and buy.”
It helps to have a pretty lass
Hawking and squawking over
The sea of voices and distractions.
It draws the men, but they have no coin.
The women, fast in tow, jingle, jangle
Holding tight the purse strings,
And despite a man’s quick denial,
All know it to be true.
Maddy sings like a village fair,
All gaiety and laughter,
Rising o’r the flags and pennants,
And to the hills, powerful with purpose,
Recounting the old tales
She gives echo to a time long past
So that we will remember.
Palimpsest 
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