The Lord of Misrule

In the London of James
We ran wild in the parks,
Assaulted the toffs,
Ruled the streets after dark,
We slit many noses,
Ungirdled each wench,
And lifted their kirtles on
Many a park bench.

They called us the Mohocks
We rambled each street,
Tipped many a chair
On its side in the street,
Caused mayhem and riot
And ran with the sword,
Put pastors to pleas
On their knees to the Lord!

When Christmas, it came in
A quiver of white,
We’d shiver, and wander
The streets every night,
While citizens revelled,
Stayed home, rich and poor,
Heaped coals at the hearth,
Locked and bolted each door.

‘The fun has gone out of it,’
Grumbled Long Will,
‘There’s no head to punch,
And no Doxie to spill,
The streets are quite empty
And quiet as the tomb,
There’ll be no glad rioting
This night, or soon!’

 

So Bodger and Catchpenny,

Long Will and Gull,

Stood frowning at Patrick

Who scratched at his skull,

‘This time of the season

They’re playing the fool,

So let us join in with

The Lord of Misrule!’

 

They stood up, delighted

And mad as a coot,

They capered and cantered

And Will played the flute,

Gull got him a Tabor and

Beat it with glee,

Destroyed all the silence

In disharmony!

 

While Patrick broke in to

An old Players Shoppe,

For Motley and nightsticks,

A barrel of Hock,

Then came out all dressed

As the veriest fool,

And bowed to us gently,

The Lord of Misrule!

 

We swaggered on down to the

Church in the Dell,

While Patrick had jangled

The hat with its bell,

Then led our procession

In riot, alas,

Right down to the altar

In time for High Mass.

 

The preacher looked grim

As he halted his prayer,

The whole congregation

Sat just as they were,

They knew of the Mohocks

And not one would rise,

At risk of the beating

They saw in our eyes.

 

The church was so ancient,

Lay under the Moon,

And barely three candles

Were lighting the gloom,

The tombs of Crusaders

Lay hallowed in there,

Each corner a knight,

And his lady, so fair!

 

So Patrick went up to

The altar, the fool,

Said: ‘I am your master,

The Lord of Misrule!

And you will go down

In your penance to me,

Or preacher, you’ll hang

From the mistletoe tree!’

 

The preacher, he blustered,

The preacher, he fell,

The people, they scattered

Like hounds before hell,

The church was soon empty

And grim in the dark,

Then Gull became nervous -

‘It’s only a lark!’

 

The doors slammed behind us

The candles went out,

The Crusader banners cast

Shadows of doubt,

And then came a creaking

Of time and old sin,

And something was moving

That shouldn’t have been!

 

The knights on their headstones

Had lurched to their feet,

Came lumbering on from

Their centuries sleep,

With shields at the ready and

Swords in the air,

They swung at our revels

Through Catchpenny’s hair.

 

I watched as poor Bodger

Was cleft at the front,

Before his head toppled,

Fell into the font,

While Will caught a thrust

From the next knight behind,

That sliced through his ribcage

And shattered his spine.

 

Then Gull I heard scream as

I raced for the door,

Flew in at the vestry

And hid on the floor,

The Preacher was nowhere,

He’d fled from the scene,

The moment the knights had

Creaked up from their dream!

 

When morning broke early

I slunk through the dawn,

Went back to my lodgings

And tried to get warm,

For outside the church, on the

Cross, like a fool,

And hanging in chains was

The Lord of Misrule!

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Devanshu Rajput]

everytime i read your great pieces of poem...they always leave me to say great,fantastic,excellent...i think no writer would be able to write like you on this land...you wonderfully and effortlessly write poem...heed was much attracted towards your well-rhymed lines...my level would not be able to review your writing...

[Tkess]

This poem paints such an amazing story. Each stanza beautifully arranged.

[George Korolog]

This is a fantastic piece. Very well done.

[Alvin L. Kathembe]

Brilliant!! reminds me of Robert Louis Stevenson...brilliant, symmetrical stanzas, and beautiful choice of words. In poetry the second best word isn't half as good as the very best one, and you managed to pick it out every time...marvelous job, straight into the favourites!thanks Mwach, for requesting!

[Maureen Mwaniki]

Suggested by a friend and i see why!this is a story told in a poem so beautifuly!flows from start to end!faultless and absolutely amaizing write!i read it twice!:)

[M.Babu]

In the London of James
We ran wild in the parks,
Assaulted the toffs,
Ruled the streets after dark,
We slit many noses,
Ungirdled each wench,
And lifted their kirtles on
Many a park bench.

Perfection in the rhyme...it was well streamlined. Wonderful beginning clear of any error in my eyes!

‘The fun has gone out of it,’
Grumbled Long Will,
‘There’s no head to punch,
And no Doxie to spill,
The streets are quite empty
And quiet as the tomb,
There’ll be no glad rioting
This night, or soon!’

This was my favorite stanza. How you manage to keep such a tight rhyme scheme and keep the story relevant and smooth is worthy of my applause. Very witty approach to storytelling i must say!

Overally this was such a great story. No faults at all in my eyes. It flowed absolutely fabulously from the beginning all the way to the last sentence. You've clearly mastered and ingeniously fused the skill of poetry and storytelling. Your writing is perfectly sublime and awing...saying anything less is synonymous with 'The Lord of Misrule'!
Fantastic piece. Extremely gripping!

[Gone]

What a story, what a poem and such a clear message. I enjoyed every line of this poem.

[Art Sun]

Now we can understand what goes around comes around...nice work David...enjoyed this poetic story of yours...

WOW! I find this very lively and so descriptive.. I can see it as I read it.. Great writing! I have perused your other work and it is just as amazing..

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Lord have I been remiss in reviewing my read requests! I do apologize for taking so long. Reading your work always feels like coming home. I can always envision myself sitting by the fire, listening to you as you relate your latest creation.

"The Lord of Misrule" is splendid! I immediately see the Knights Templar as they rise from their rest to readily rid the church of such malarkey. As always, you enchant from beginning to end; and I thought the flow of this poem was particularly excellent.

100 for you!

Linda Marie

P. S. Happy Thanksgiving and a thousand blessings to you.

[KAREN]

A wonderful poem full of excitement! I enjoyed reading this piece a work!