The Winding Stair

I took a room on the second floor

Of a building lost in time,

Nobody knew just when it was built

By way of its weird design.

It once had stood on an acreage

Of woods, and lakes and sky,

But now it stood in a fifth rate slum

And the world had passed it by.

 

Its red-brick frontage streaked with soot,

Its columns black with grime,

The marble floor with ancient foot

Was scored, and past its prime,

But any roof was a comfort then

For my life had lost its way,

And I couldn’t face the future then,

Nor yet, the light of day.

 

The janitor was an ugly man

And he had but one good eye,

He’d only let to the down-and-outs

And tramps that were passing by,

He made the rules for the ancient place

And he said, ‘Just you beware,

Don’t ever go to the back of the house

Or use the winding stair.’

 

He knew I’d agree to anything

For I had nowhere to go,

Since ever my wife had turned me out

For a butcher, name of Joe.

The years we’d spent were meaningless

Once she’d set her sights on him,

So I left without a word or a prayer

But kept my feelings in.

 

Up above was another floor

That was empty all the time,

The janitor said, ‘it’s not in use,

It’s just too hard to climb.’

And above that floor was another room

With the windows painted black,

And accessed by the winding stair

I’d been warned about, out back.

 

It was lonely there on the second floor

It was quiet as the tomb,

I got to wondering what was there

Upstairs in the topmost room,

There were noises, scuffles and fumblings,

At times in the early hours,

But when I asked the janitor why,

All that I got were glowers.

 

‘This house has plenty of secrets but

It keeps them to itself,

As you’d be better to keep to yours,

Rather than dig and delve,

I trust that you’ll never get the urge

To leave the second floor,

If ever I catch you out, my friend

I’ll see you out the door.’

 

His threats were making me curious

So I listened, quite intent,

At two or three in the morning when

Some noise was evident,

I climbed one night to the floor above

And I saw the winding stair,

And what was coming and going sent

A shock through my greying hair.

 

There were figures in shiny silver suits

Came in and out from the street,

Carrying cats and rats and dogs

Like specimens, all asleep,

And a terrible growl from the topmost room

Rang out when they opened the door,

And sent a shiver like ice along

My spine, from the upper floor.

 

And down the stairway creatures came

That I’d only seen in books,

Handed to strangers down below

With a nod, or merely a look,

They’d been extinct for a million years

Or had in the books I’d read,

But not a one of them lived or breathed,

They seemed to be newly dead.

 

I got back down to my room again

Shivered, and closed the door,

Sat in a quivering heap of dread

But I knew that I wanted more,

They must have come from a future time

And delved way into the past,

Why would they want our cats and dogs,

Had they lost their own, at last?

 

I went again on succeeding nights

The traffic was still the same,

For men of science and drunken girls

And still the strangers came,

But then a bellow from in that room

And a crunching, crashing sound,

With voices raised in the midnight gloom,

The janitor came, and frowned.

 

‘You’ve seen too much, now you’ll have to stay,’

He growled, and pointed a gun,

Prodded me up the winding stair

‘Til we saw what was going on,

The door to the topmost room was blocked

By an animal, tightly jammed,

‘My god, we’ll have to get out of here,

This never was part of the plan.’

 

Two giant tusks blocked the winding stair

As I looked in its evil eye,

Its head and shoulders had blocked the door

With no way of getting by,

It let out a giant trumpet blast

Of pain, as I turned to run,

This was no elephant, that I knew,

But a giant Mastodon.

 

Then up above was a steady whine

Like a jet that was winding up,

‘Don’t leave me here,’ cried the janitor,

‘I have to get back, just stop!’

But the roof of the house was lifting up

And the bricks were falling away,

I caught a glimpse of a saucer shape

As this thing took off that day.

 

The winding stair came crashing down

With nothing to stop its fall,

I landed down in the basement, found

Myself by a Roman wall,

The janitor, not so fortunate

Was crushed by the falling beast,

Killed by a thing, so long extinct,

By a million years, at least.

 

I didn’t wait for the powers that be

But took myself on the road,

Looking for somewhere else to stay

To hide away from the cold,

I found me a mansion, streaked with soot

With its columns, black with grime,

And thought, as I took a second look,

It seemed to be lost in time!

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[TL Boehm]

such a creative story - I didn't see this at all coming - its fascinating -
There were figures in shiny silver suits
Came in and out from the street,
Carrying cats and rats and dogs
Like specimens, all asleep,
And a terrible growl from the topmost room
Rang out when they opened the door,
And sent a shiver like ice along
My spine, from the upper floor.
splendid story

[Blue Ivory]

Wow! I kept on reading eagerly, my mind filled with curiosity. What a turn of events! I was expecting a lot different!

[shallimarRose]

As always near impeccable timing and rhyme.. Who would have thought in this day and age on WC i would come across a poem with a mastodon in it lol.. nice job David.. xoxo

[Cerulean]

*High 5ing the mister in the poem* Haha, well what are the odds of that? He's as curious as me :) I love how the poem seemed to reflect its title. It felt like I was walking up a winding staircase and with each step I discovered pieces of the next part of the poem. It was quite an adventurous outcome for both me and the man. I loved the humour and the flow of it as well.

Oh yikes for him! Hope he has a lucky streak 'cos no doubt the next building is going to be the same, but curious minds will turn curiouser :) :)

[Ravyne Hawke]

* chuckles* The ending was indeed humorous.. this poor fella may have to go through this all over again! This had me on the edge of my seat.. I too wanted to know what was going on up there and you certainly didn't disappoint me!

[Keith]

Superb poem, aliens in the attic, man where does all this come from?

[A Soap Mess Stories]

I like how you rhyme and metre your stories. Another great story David! :-)

[Marie]

I hope he kept to the rules after this. Don't go where you don't belong--attic or basement.

[Emerald Seas]

Perfect rhyme and meter as always, David. I enjoyed the story. You never cease to amaze me with the vast array of topics you can write about with ease.