Ruth and the Lemon Tree (the Lemon Tree and Ruth)
by Ruth McGill & Stephen Hancock


i
He’s like an old, forbidding, slightly foreboding
set-in-his-ways, weather-beaten and wartrodden
new-fangled-frowning, “Sit up girl
and don’t pull that face” sort of grumpy, gnarled
and yet graceful grandfather
sitting in his thorny rocking chair feigning deafness
whilst inwardly alert to every whisper of his name

But, for all his well-rehearsed crabbiness
it’s true: he never once denied us the
quietly crowning glory of his juicy little stories
waxed and filled and wrinkled by the yellow-lemon sun

ii
Ruth, yes Ruth, a funny sweet thing
more grateful than most, I grant you
I probably pricked her more than her fair share
but sometimes you’ve got to remind the little buggers
or else they take you for granted they do
– a whiff of two seasons and they think they bloody well own you

iii
P.S. from Ruth: we were all quite greedy and
rarely waited for him to let go