Learn More

David Lewis Paget

Rookie - 856 Points (22.11.1944 / Nottingham, England/live in Australia)

Mother of the Bride


I was introduced to her mother
One Whit Sunday, down at the Hall,
They said that this was a ritual
And suffered by one and all,
She wanted to check your hands were clean
That you had no flaw on your skin,
I wanted to marry her daughter
But if I had, I couldn’t come in.

They led me in through the servant’s door
Down a passageway to the rear,
Marching me past some gloomy rooms
Was an ancient Grenadier,
He didn’t reply to a single word
That I said, his face was grim,
Then into a room with a chandelier
That was gloomier than him.

She sat at the end of a table, veiled
And motioned me to a chair,
The dust was thick on the table-top
And I’m sure there was dust on her,
I’d heard she once was a beauty
One of the greatest in the land,
But she sat there bowed like a coffin shroud
As she raised her withered hand.

‘Show me your hands and your fingers, ’ she
Then whispered in gravel tones,
Her voice like the dying embers of
The ashes of human bones,
I raised my sleeves to the elbows and
I held them out to her stare,
‘I’m going to marry your daughter, ’
I declared, ‘so be aware! ’

She flinched, as if I had slapped her
Then she said, as hard as nails,
‘I’ll write the end of the chapter,
I’ll not heed your rants and rails.
My daughter won’t marry anyone
That I don’t approve, you’ll see,
You think that you are the only one
Come cap in hand to me? ’

‘There was a time, I was in my prime
When the world was at my door,
And I could have married anyone
But the love that I had was poor,
A rival had him imprisoned, just
To get him out of the way,
Then said I could buy his freedom if
I’d lie with him for a day.’

‘My love was such that I put my trust
That this Earl would keep his word,
So slept with him on a Sunday, then
He put my love to the sword.
He said that I’d have to keep his bed
For I had no place to go,
That I was fit for playing the whore
And he’d let my friends all know.’

‘I couldn’t cry, I would rather die
But my first thought was revenge,
My heart was broken forevermore
But my love would be avenged.
I ran his lordship an evil bath
With herbs and salts disguised,
Then held him down while it ate his flesh,
And put out both of his eyes.’

I leapt to my feet on hearing that,
And staggered back from my chair,
‘So now you know I’m a monster,
If you cross me, just beware! ’
‘I think you’ve told me a pack of lies,
But I love your daughter, true!
I’m going to marry her come what may,
I swear, in spite of you! ’

She rose and beckoned me follow her
And she led me through the gloom,
Down through a flagstone stairwell and
Into a tiny room,
A man lay there in an iron bath
That was filled to the brim with oil,
And only his face was still intact
Though his eyes had both been spoiled.

‘He hasn’t an ounce of flesh on him,
The oil just keeps him alive,
He’ll never get out of this bath again, ’
But he’d heard us both arrive.
‘For God’s sake, kill me and end it now, ’
He groaned from his oily tomb,
‘I will when you bring my Martin back, ’
She whispered, there in the gloom.

I couldn’t get out of there fast enough
But I’d lost my way inside,
I knew I couldn’t get married now
I was far too terrified.
She called me back and she raised her veil
And she said, ‘He stole my grace! ’
I saw to my horror that syphilis
Had eaten part of her face! ’

21 November 2013

Submitted: Thursday, November 21, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Mother of the Bride by David Lewis Paget )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Trending Poets

Trending Poems

  1. Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
  2. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
  3. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  4. Anecdote of the Jar, Wallace Stevens
  5. No Man Is An Island, John Donne
  6. Daffodils, William Wordsworth
  7. The Three Kings, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
  8. A Child's Christmas in Wales, Dylan Thomas
  9. If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
  10. Indian Weavers, Sarojini Naidu

Poem of the Day

poet Emily Jane Brontë

I am the only being whose doom
No tongue would ask no eye would mourn
I never caused a thought of gloom
A smile of joy since I was born

In secret pleasure - secret tears
...... Read complete »

   

New Poems

  1. I Chose To Mickey With The Mouse, Lawrence S. Pertillar
  2. Honey-Bee Lover, Paul Sebastian
  3. How real is This Truth?, michael walkerjohn
  4. What Bhagavad Gita is not, Bashyam Narayanan
  5. Sold, Lawrence S. Pertillar
  6. Pain, Pain Knows No Race, Hebert Logerie
  7. God's Hands Of Love, Tom Zart
  8. Alone, Samantha Gronn
  9. David, Casey Renee Kiser
  10. She Stuck Her Butt Out At Me..., wanderer sailor
[Hata Bildir]