The Reflection in the Pool

I’d hidden away the mirrors

Packed them up and sent them off,

Taken the shine off the saucepan lids,

Sandpapered the coffee pot,

Everything that reflected I’d

Sand-blast, like the sliding doors,

Even got rid of the polisher

For shining the wooden floors.

 

It was very like narcolepsy when

She saw her face on a plate,

She’d go in a trance and sit for hours

In a crazy, dreamlike state,

I’d take away the reflection and

She’d sit and weep for hours,

‘You’ve taken away my beauty,’ she

Would say, and take cold showers.

 

It seemed like a terrible sickness that

She loved her looks so much,

She’d say, ‘If you won’t let me see myself,

I’ll just make do with touch,’

She’d run her fingers over her face

Explore each crease and mound,

And sigh to her satisfaction as

She felt her lips turn down.

 

I couldn’t get rid of the garden pool

That flowed on in from the brook,

Babbling over the standing stones

From the woods at Nether Hook,

I’d catch her kneeling beside the pool

And staring into its depths,

Smiling at each reflection that

Would ripple with every breath.

 

‘Beware of the evil Water Sprite,’

I told her more than once,

‘He takes advantage of lovely girls

For he hates to be outdone.

He’ll lure you into a shady pool

With guile, and his tender lies

And hold you down ‘til you surely drown,

You’ll avoid him, if you’re wise.’

 

She told me then of a vision that

She’d seen, that of a prince,

He’d smiled at her from the water but

She hadn’t seen him since.

‘That’s not a prince but the Water Sprite

And he’s trying to lure you down,

To put your face to the water, but

I’ve told you once, you’ll drown.’

 

The water was babbling gently on

A sunny day in Spring,

In shades of the weeping myrtles and

The sound of cuckooing,

Miranda was knelt beside the pool

And I saw her head go down,

When claws reached out of the water

Pulled her in, without a sound.

 

I raced across and I seized her hair

And I pulled her from the pool,

But claws had raked at her pretty face,

She said, ‘I feel a fool!

I should have listened to you, I know

But I thought that just one kiss…’

But he had turned to a monster and

Had bitten her rose red lips.

 

I put the mirrors all back in place

And I bought new shiny pans,

Polished the floor, you can see your face

But she hides behind her hands,

She never looks in a mirror now

Though her scars are healed and white,

But goes each day to poison the pool

To kill off the Water Sprite.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Harmony Babin]

Being concieted of one self isn't right, and therefore those people learn hard lessons. I love this story-poem you put together. It says a lot and people should take this in for concideration. It has a lot of meaning. Great work! I enjoy reading all of your writings (:

[A Soap Mess Stories]

Another good story David! You have a way with spinning tales!

[Stevo The POE-t]

Thanks for sharing it... I enjoyed it... Great read...

[roarke]

Such is the labors one endures when knowing something the other doesn't and only dire experience can teach and bring them around. There's a lesson here, oh yes. Marvelous.

[Anand Sehgal]

hiding from the mirror, you can never shun the reality. A riveting write :)

[Marie]

I always thought water sprites were happy little fairies. Apparently this was one gone wrong...

[Bob Sherunkle]

Mr Paget,that was stunning.It flows perfectly.

[ValyrieKiennan]

Absolutely beautiful. I feel there are a couple lines here and there that could do with some tweaking, but honestly the language is lovely. I thoroughly enjoyed the description of the narrator's frenzied destruction of the reflective surfaces!

Keep up the excellent writing,

Cheers!

VK