Metzengerstein

Metzengerstein

A Poem by David Lewis Paget
"

A little bit of Gothic...

"

I think that I was only nine

When first I met Metzengerstein,
Too young to know his foul intent,
Too young, too pure, too innocent.
 
He lived in some old ruined church
With gothic columns, vaulted arch,
That sheltered him from thundered skies,
And hid, in gloom, his enterprise.
 
For from that church were mutterings
On windy nights, such utterings
As screams, while weird unholy moans
Disturbed the graveyard's scattered bones.
 
He wore a cape that wrapped him in
A hat, broad-brimmed, and black as sin,
His gaiters to the knee were brown
The boots he wore, they made no sound.
 
At night I'd see his shadow pass
Dark stained, upon my window glass
As stealthily he roamed abroad
While mist and fog obscured the road.
 
He came from some small German town,
My kindly father asked him round:
'We must be kind, and make no fuss,
But treat him just as one of us.'
 
Metzengerstein then came to call
And sat and stared - stared at us all,
My mother brought us cake and tea
And laughed, and smiled most happily.
 
She was so sweet, so fair of face
My father said: 'She lends us grace.'
She was much younger, then, than he,
He'd brought her from the old country.
 
But while she played the welcome host
Metzengerstein watched her the most,
His eyes burned fierce beneath thick brows
As once he'd spied on German fraus.
 
He came again, again and he
Ignored my father, ignored me,
But watched my mother's every move;
She danced, to see if he'd approve.
 
My father sat bemused and still,
And worried too, for I could tell;
His wife would seem to be bewitched,
Metzengerstein had scratched her itch.
 
So soon that sweet and dainty dame
Had added rumour to her name,
She raised her skirts above the knee,
Wore tops as low as low could be.
 
While in our parlour, came the sounds
Of dancing music, all year round,
Metzengerstein sat in his chair
While she would dance, and taunt, and stare…
 
Right back at him, full in the eyes
As if he had her hypnotized;
'I wish I'd never asked him here,'
My father muttered, in despair.
 
Then one day when I was but ten
My mother, with Metzengerstein
Went out, and said: 'We're going to search,
The bowels of that ruined church.'
 
He'd told her there was music there
Would charm the roots of her fair hair,
Would spin her giddy in the dark
Would faery-like, ignite her spark.
 
I waited 'til my father came
And told him I was not to blame:
'But mother's gone, some stairs to climb,
She's gone with that Metzengerstein!'
 
We waited, and we waited on,
But of the two there was no sign,
At length we sought the church in pain
But all was echoes in the rain.
 
For days and weeks, and then for years
I watched my father burst in tears
Whenever tunes, they did remind him
Of his wife… Metzengerstein!
 
And lonely then became his life,
He mourned his only love, his wife,
But she had disappeared, as if
Her dainty frame did not exist.
 
This year, as autumn winds were due
I found that I was fifty-two,
When down the road I saw a sign -
My mother, and Metzengerstein!.
 
She danced on in, and said: 'We're back!
We found no music in the rack.'
I looked and stared like one deranged -
For neither of the two had aged!
 
My father, crippled in his chair
Cried out: 'Oh God! Is that my dear?'
And she shrank back to see him now,
This pale old man, his feeble brow.
 
'I have been but an hour or so;
What's wrong? Where did my husband go?'
I looked at her through childhood tears:
'You have been gone for forty years!'
 
She swooned, fell swiftly to the floor
As I peered out the open door,
But of that cape there was no sign,
He'd gone for good - Metzengerstein!
 
David Lewis Paget

© 2012 David Lewis Paget


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Featured Review

In reading your pieces, I've always thought that they should be read aloud, whether at a reading forum, the corner tavern or the bustling street corner. When I read finely constructed pieces like this, the inflections, the accents and the flavors become auditory, express themselves in real voice. Now, if only the passersby took head to the lessons to be learned here.

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

In reading your pieces, I've always thought that they should be read aloud, whether at a reading forum, the corner tavern or the bustling street corner. When I read finely constructed pieces like this, the inflections, the accents and the flavors become auditory, express themselves in real voice. Now, if only the passersby took head to the lessons to be learned here.

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Bewitching. If you dance with the devil... Greatly imaginative and very good flow from one stanza to the next.

Posted 14 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

I'll make my way through all of your poems yet! The title of this one caught my eye immediately upon seeing it - Edgar Allen Poe. You have given new life to the name Metzengerstein. While a different tale altogether, you retain many of the same elements of gothic writing. For some reason, your poem also makes me thing of Persephone.

Great job!

Linda Marie

Posted 15 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

What a story! I wonder about this Metzengerstein and where he took her. I get the feel of a Grimm's fairytale here... don't run off with strange men, you say.

Again, a wonderful job. Thank you so much for sending this my way.

Posted 16 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Creepy mate, really good.
Where did you get the name "Metzengerstein"?


Posted 16 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

This is your usual excellence....it was a great read, and an intersting story, very poetic...you had me right up to the last line!



Posted 16 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Excellent writing. A great story line captured flawlessly in verse and rhyme, something I know I can't do. lol You brought it together with perfection, a delight to read. Thanks for sending it to me. :+)

Posted 16 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Haha what a delightful read. I don't know where your mind finds these ideas, but I love them! This piece was fun, light, and humerous! The gentle rhyming was not forced, and it moved along nicely. The plot, in its simplicity, kept me interested. Nice little twist at the end as well. brava, my friend. You never cease to amuse and amaze with your lyrical tales. Keep writing!

Posted 16 Years Ago


1 of 2 people found this review constructive.

A spectacular story poem that combines just the right amount of fantasy and magic with reality to make this a superbly crafted work of art.
A fresh, engrossingly sassy saga of subterfuge with a whiplash ending.
I loved it.

Posted 16 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Breathtaking. I find only joy in
reading your work - I am truly
in awe of your storytelling talent,
the ease in which your rhyme
flows. This is one of the best
pieces I've read here at WC - I
am definitely going to study your
work...

Posted 16 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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Shelved in 2 Libraries
Added on April 19, 2008
Last Updated on June 27, 2012

Author

David Lewis Paget
David Lewis Paget

Moonta, South Australia, Australia



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