The Choice

The house had stood in the forest since

The passing of George the Third,

Ivy clung to the western wall,

The pillars were cracked and scarred,

The windows were bricked and boarded up

From the days of the window tax,

And the name FitzAdam was burnt in sin

In its myriad faults and cracks.

 

The oaks threw shadows in early morn,

The elms threw shadows at noon,

There wasn’t a single sunny wall

To be found ‘til the month of June,

And deep inside in the gloomy halls

Sat the last of the family tree,

Two aging spinsters, Jan and Jane,

And a dead man, that made three!

 

For Henry sat as he’d always sat

Since the day that he’d come to call,

To ask for the hand of Jan or Jane,

And arrange a Wedding Ball,

It was fifty years ago today

That he’d kept them in suspense,

For neither knew what their suitor knew

And the atmosphere was tense!

 

It was just a game to him, they thought,

He was going to have his fun,

He sat at the head of the table, and

He watched their features run,

The anxious looks of the elder girl,

The pleading lips of Jane,

He sat for an hour between them there

And refused to name a name!

 

The fire that glowed in the hearth went out,

Jane left to fetch some coal,

While Jan reached out for a sign from him

And felt that his hand was cold;

His eyes were blank as a morning mist,

His jaw had dropped to his chest,

‘What have you done - was I the one?’

Jane cried, in her distress!

 

But Henry, he was good and dead,

He’d reached his earthly span,

His heart had not proved big enough

To choose between Jane and Jan,

And so he sits with a secret smile

As his flesh returns to sand,

While Jan and Jane, they still complain

As they struggle to hold his hand!

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Rick Puetter]

Dear David,

Okay, this is such an excellent poem and so much fun. Just wonderful. The form is great, the story wonderful, with such an agonizing ending.

This was greatly enjoyed. Highest marks.

Tate pointed me this way and I thank him profusely. Thanks Tate!

Very best regards,

Rick

[Shelley Holt-Lowrey]

This was down right light and funny. I was not aware that you had that in there. Are you hiding your sense of humor? Thanks for the RR. I enjoyed this little writing much. Sad - but fun.

[Tate Morgan]

LOL OH man that's precious.I cant believe that came from the story of the old man.It is absolutely great, wondrous! The golden girls go to their grave wondering which of them he was there to save.You are right it is hard to say how or why ideas leap from our minds in the strangest ways. My wife always says to me "where did that come from"? I can't really tell her it came from imagination and the endless turning of a unquiet mind.

[Penlady]

Wonderful! Insight is golden! As your writing!

[Morrigan Nicole]

Brilliant, my friend, I love the way your poetry is always written in an older tongue, it gives a display of humor and tragedy in a fairytale sense. Loved it.
Favorited!

[MOON]

Poignant and amusing like how you spun the story in this poem. Lovely.

[tynamite]

Whoa the ending just blew me away. I like the way this switches up towards the end of the poem. Amazing work!

[Elaenor Aisling]

Lovely work, though tragic! Truly a delightful read.

[Michael G.]

A good story well told.

[Neva Flores Smith - Cha..]

Your poetry is always glorious and has to be shared.........I shall share