The Room in the Albert MallA Poem by David Lewis PagetThe Albert Mall was a narrow street Named after the dying prince, Where Queen Victoria donned the rags Of a widow, ever since. She’d sat outside in her royal Coach And been heard to mutter, ‘Why?’ While Albert did what he had to do, What he had to do was die! And we came by when the Queen was dead When the Mall was quite forgot, To rent a room where the prince had died If we’d known, we’d rather not. The Mall was grubby and cheap by then So we thought we’d make it do, I asked Marie if she didn’t mind And she said, ‘It’s up to you.’ It seems the room had been empty then By the choking layers of dust, I said, ‘Shall I let it blow outside?’ And Marie said, ‘If you must.’ It took us days just to clear the air And to have a look around, In some of the ancient furniture You can imagine what we found. The robe held some of the smartest clothes I think, that we’d ever seen, I said as much to Marie, ‘that dress You’d swear, was fit for a queen, And there, a suit for a gentleman With a full blown grey Top Hat, I said to Marie, ‘Shall we try them on,’ And she said, ‘Let’s do just that.’ So then on the eve of Michaelmas We stood by the mirror there, Arrayed in the best of formal gear They called Victorian wear, And music drifted up through the floor From the ballroom down below, While I, in a moment of madness Blurted out, ‘Well, shall we go?’ We made our way to the music by Descending a curving stair, And finding a throng of dancers who Were dressed the way we were, Then someone called out ‘Her Majesty,’ And the music stayed and died, While they all stared at Marie and bowed, Made me feel queer inside. I swear that they only saw the clothes, They didn’t see us two, And they were a shade ephemeral, I could see right through them, too, They went right back to their dancing While we sat on an ottoman, Whispering what were our chances if We just got up, and ran. But then they gradually faded, and The music died away, And we were left in an empty room Before the light of day, The clothes went back in the dusty robe And we found another flat, For just one night we were Prince and Queen And we’re both in awe of that. David Lewis Paget
© 2015 David Lewis PagetFeatured Review
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12 Reviews Added on October 15, 2015 Last Updated on October 15, 2015 Tags: Victoria, grubby, cheap, Michaelmas Author
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