Poem by Ruth Bell Graham: With This Ring

February 9, 2018

Categories: Ruth Bell Graham


“With this ring…”

your strong, familiar voice

fell like a benediction

on my heart, that dusk;

tall candles flickered gently,

our age-old vows were said,

and I could hear someone

begin to sing

an old, old song,

timeworn and lovely,

timeworn and dear.

And in that dusk

were old, old friends –

and you, an old friend, too,

(and dearer than them all).

Only my ring seemed new –

its plain gold

surface

warm and bright

and strange to me

that candlelight…

unworn – unmarred.

Could it be that wedding rings

like other things,

are lovelier when scarred?

From Ruth Bell Graham, Sitting By My Laughing Fire

 

To see more from Ruth Bell Graham, visit here.

 

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