Woman Of Stone Poem by David Lewis Paget

Woman Of Stone



I saw her first by the apple tree
Where she picked the ripe red fruit,
Her auburn hair in a twisted coil
And a crinoline to suit,
I saw her eyes as she turned to me
Two azure pools, afloat;
But they didn't hazard a glance at me,
Not even a single glance at me,
She didn't venture a glance at me
As my song died in my throat!

I lost control of my heart that day
I could neither eat nor drink,
Though I felt my substance fade away
I was too confused to think,
And a fever took me, by and by,
I took to my bed, a week,
But she never came to visit me,
Not even a thought to visit me,
I'd have given the earth to visit me
While my spirit lay so bleak!

She had a million suitors then
And she turned them all away,
They said that the grass was dry and sere
In the meadow, where she lay,
She made it known she was quite content
In life, to be left alone,
She hadn't the need for men, she said,
Not even one special man, she said,
‘I'd rather be left for dead, ' she said;
They called her: ‘Woman of Stone! '

She taunted and teased, quite merciless,
She treated men with contempt,
She'd flutter her painted eyelashes
In the Halls of the Regiment,
And many an Officer fell for her
In his red and his golden braid,
‘I never did like a uniform,
Too bad, you're wearing a uniform! '
She'd turn her back on a uniform
And she'd smile as she walked away.

They said she'd been left at the altar
When she was barely seventeen,
She'd chosen a young subaltern, who
Renewed his vows to the Queen,
His regiment marched away that day
To the fields at Waterloo,
He carried his musket high with pride
Then tramped in mud through the countryside,
His blood was scattered both far and wide
When the battle was finally through!

I started attending the balls where she
Was teasing and taunting still,
I never was much of a dancer, but
I can foot a mean quadrille;
I tried my best to ignore her there,
Danced gaily round with a friend,
Whenever we'd meet, I'd turn away,
Look anywhere else, but not betray
The hints in her eyes or her body's sway,
And I'd leave before the end!

The number of balls was endless when
The soldiers came marching home,
They feted the Duke of Wellington
For beating the Frenchies own;
And still I tried to avoid her there
This Caroline Ainslie Stack,
She'd follow me round the ballroom then,
A dancing card and a thrust out pen
But I wouldn't sign, again and again,
Her eyes turned slowly black.

She caught me up in the village street,
She backed me against a wall,
Then said: ‘It's not a man but a mouse
Won't dance with me at the ball! '
I shrugged and murmured, and took my leave
She followed me all the way home;
I tried to remember the things I said
That night, it rattles on through my head,
I found her lying across my bed
Without a stitch of her own!

We married, back in the spring this year,
Caroline's starting to show,
She holds my arm on the way to church
And she greets with a warm ‘Hello! '
I've never told how I fell in love,
How she cut me, clear to the bone,
But on evenings here, as warm as this
I can taste of my woman's magic kiss,
And she tells me, ‘Dear, we live in bliss! '
She does - my Woman of Stone!

15 March 2012

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David Lewis Paget

David Lewis Paget

Nottingham, England/live in Australia
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