The Room in the Albert Mall

The 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

Reviews

[Collette Edwards]

Thank you for sharing this beautiful poem. You have a talent with words as you paint a picture as you write. I felt like I was right their watching the whole thing. You have a talent that should be shared with everyone. I would be happy to have just a pinch of your ability to write. Keep writing and keep sharing I am becoming a fan of yours and will be looking for anything you write.

[ANTO]

Loved the way they freaked out for a moment and wanted to run - but thankfully didn't !
Such visuals here David. I could see that sweeping staircase and all the faces staring up as the 'Prince' and 'Queen' floated regally down it.
I remember reading an article about sounds being heard in a wall and the acoustic guy said he felt that sound energy could be trapped in building materials - like a fly trapped in prehistoric resin. Perhaps similar energies can be trapped in other materials - even clothing.

This really fired my imagination DLP
Every woman should feel like a queen at least once in their life.
Thanks for sharing.

[Mercy Fae]

But then they gradually faded, and
The music died away,"

These lines add a great close to the poem, almost a fading effect.