The Enchanted Manor

The Georgian Manor in Ripon Town

Had seen far better days,

The chimney pots had fallen down

And the windows, scarred and crazed,

The paint had peeled from the cedar door

And the ivy climbed untamed,

From the days of the aristocracy

The house was re-arranged.

 

There were flats and a communal kitchen

But no carpets on the floor,

The walls were damp and the paper peeled

In strips, from the old décor,

When Jennifer took an upstairs flat

She shuddered, ‘It won’t be long.’

But things in her life had taken a turn

With everything going wrong.

 

She lay on the iron poster bed

And she cried herself to sleep,

Ever since her engagement went

All she could do was weep,

The future, bleak and forbidding now

Held nothing but fear and tears,

It yawned ahead in her misery,

An aeon of wasted years.

 

At night, the gloom would descend, a pall

Would settle upon her room,

She’d lie awake to the mutterings

That seemed to come from the tomb,

The manor had once been bright and gay

With Lords and Earls, and Dames

Plucking at hammered dulcimers

While playing their wooing games.

 

And standing off in the corner was

A wardrobe, made of teak,

The doors were locked, there wasn’t a key

It was just some old antique,

Or that was what she had thought at first

‘Til her interest fired her mind,

And she levered open the doors one night

To see what there was to find.

 

She found there what was a treasure trove

Of gowns and hoods and capes,

Of silken skirts with their bustles,

Party masques for their escapades,

Muslin dresses and bodices

That Jennifer gaped to see,

That ladies wore all those years before,

And whalebone corsetry.

 

She felt a hidden excitement while

Surveying the gorgeous past,

And then an ineffable sadness that

Such grandeur didn’t last,

The woman that wore these party gowns

Was laid in an ancient grave,

Along with her beaus and suitors all,

The clothes alone were saved.

 

One night she weakened, and tried them on,

They seemed like a perfect fit,

Over the laced up corsets when

She donned a satin slip,

She chose a gown with a turquoise hue

With a bustle of ribbon and lace,

While the gas lamp that had never worked

Lit up, to reflect her face.

 

Then music wafted under her door

From a dulcimer and lute,

A wistful song from an old spinette

And a Love song from a flute,

She thrilled to enter the passage where

The gas lamps, in a row,

Played their light on the central stair

And the dancing, down below.

 

She floated to the head of the stair

As her gown trailed on behind,

And wondered as she descended what

Enchantment she would find,

The dancers stopped, and they looked at her

As she joined them on the floor,

And one said, ‘Here is the Faery Queene,

We’d best make fast the door.’

 

A fine young man in a tailcoat came

And he bent to kiss her hand,

From white cravat to his doeskin boots

He was quickly in command,

He whirled her breathless, into the throng

As the dancers wheeled and spun,

Risen up for this one enchant

That her dressing had begun.

 

But after one in the morning she

Began to fear and doubt,

The tapers happened to flicker and

The gas lamps all went out,

The dancers started to fade away

To return to where they came,

‘Til only she and the young man stood

In the glare of a single flame.

 

‘They’re happy now that you brought them back

Though the hours were swiftly spent,

They sleep again in their graves where they

Have aeons to repent.’

‘But what of you, must you join them there,’

As she clung to him the more,

‘Not I,’ he said, ‘for I’m not yet dead,

I live in the flat next door!’

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Harmony]

The last line was simply fantastic! It altered the entire perspective of the poem! I was expecting a gruesome ending of some sort, but this was a nice change! I really enjoyed the light-hearted tone of this poem. The descriptions of past grandeurs and glories were also very vivid. Thanks again for another brilliant poem!

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

A most telling and exciting prose that gathers pace and does not let go, well done, good read.

[Marie]

That is very nice indeed. A love story. I was afraid Jennifer would lose everything when the night was over, but she found romance instead.

[Jane Winters Rogers]

You covered such a wide variety of the emotions of the Heart. Beautiful, rich, ( meaning the great care taken in describing every detail ) ....mystery, sadness, excitement, joy, and romance. Even the Spirits from days long past were happy.

[Jennie Baron]

Brilliant! The romantic and supernatural elements truly appeal to me.

[MomzillaNC]

I love this haunted love story! The imagery and is so rich and inciting… drawing you along, making you part of the story. Wonderful twist at the end.

[R Smith]

I think David that I just found my favourite poem of yours, I love the ending its my kinda thing, that little twist that brings a smile, always love those and the story was perfection, i think its the best yet thank you :)