The Ragman's Dray

Nobody knows where the Ragman goes

In the wee, small hours of the morn,

When he’s taken the dray with your rags away

Through the pin-point eye of a storm.

He came to stay while you were away

And your sister gave him your dress,

The one with the dreams and the bright sequins

Sewn in to the lace at the breast.

 

She said that you wouldn’t be needing it

Since your dreams have faded to dust,

When all those hundreds of bright sequins

Were dimmed, and turning to rust,

But the Ragman knew that he’d capture you

If he made away with your dreams,

And sits unpicking your party dress

With a razor blade at the seams.

 

Your sister Grace has a second face

That she turns when she’s not near you,

In a zealous, jealous and carping place

That she keeps well hidden from view,

For nobody gives her a second glance

While she schemes and dreams and plots,

To plant your beauty deep in the ground

With a host of forget-me-nots.

 

Don’t peer too long from the balcony,

Don’t stand too long at the edge,

She’s loosened the rail you lean upon

And thrown the bolt in the hedge,

A sudden rush and a simple push

Will send you a long way down,

While she prepares her look of despair

As they plant you there in the ground.

 

I’m only a menial footman here

But my love is stamped on my face,

I’m going to track the Ragman down

And bring him back to this place,

I’ve seen his dray by a cottage door

In the forest of chills and frost,

And seen the women he buys and sells

Who wander the forest, lost.

 

Your sister sips on a nightly draught

As she sits and watches the Moon,

Plotting to see the end of you,

I know that it’s coming soon.

I’ll drop a potion into her drink

And tie her up in a sack,

Then throw her up on the Ragman’s dray,

She’ll never be coming back.

 

He’ll take her deep in the forest there

To the caves of unshriven souls,

Then put her up on the auction block

And sell her to one of the trolls.

The bolt is back in the balcony rail

And the potion’s in her drink,

The Ragman’s dray is coming today

And your sister’s at the brink!

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Daniel Sala]

A very interesting piece, as ever written with skill and talent; on one level the beautiful poetry tells a story of several people like a moving snapshot (not a film, big difference), on another I get the perhaps incorrect impression that this deals with human emotions and behaviour like jealousy and betrayal and current affairs, i.e. people trafficking. A marvellous poem.
Lines such as "...But the Ragman knew that he’d capture you
If he made away with your dreams,
And sits unpicking your party dress
With a razor blade at the seams." give plenty of room for thought beyond being great in and of themselves.

[Baby Ricochet]

This would make a great horror movie. Arnold Schwartzeneggar could play the rag man. He's getting old and decrepit now so he'd be perfect. We could get Julia Roberts to play Grace. I'm telling you it would go straight to DVD

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Jealousy and envy have caused many a woman to do the craziest things, even against their own sister. It's a shame that this morbid sickness has cast itself upon the world. It's as deadly to the spirit as the bubonic plague to man. Well done, as ever!

[Marie]

I'm glad someone is looking out for things. If my sister gave away my party dress, I'd poison her myself...

[Draven]

You are such a fantastic story teller. You, Tate, and Joshua Deathdealer are the 3 most inspiring writers that I cherish so dearly.

[Bob Sherunkle]

Fantastic, Mr Paget,Beautifully written,and great storytelling.Superb.