Woman of Stone

I saw her first by the apple tree

Where she picked the ripe red fruit,

Her auburn hair in a twisted coil

And a crinoline to suit,

I saw her eyes as she turned to me

Two azure pools, afloat;

But they didn’t hazard a glance at me,

Not even a single glance at me,

She didn’t venture a glance at me

As my song died in my throat!

 

I lost control of my heart that day

I could neither eat nor drink,

Though I felt my substance fade away

I was too confused to think,

And a fever took me, by and by,

I took to my bed, a week,

But she never came to visit me,

Not even a thought to visit me,

I’d have given the earth to visit me

While my spirit lay so bleak!

 

She had a million suitors then

And she turned them all away,

They said that the grass was dry and sere

In the meadow, where she lay,

She made it known she was quite content

In life, to be left alone,

She hadn’t the need for men, she said,

Not even one special man, she said,

‘I’d rather be left for dead,’ she said;

They called her: ‘Woman of Stone!’

 

She taunted and teased, quite merciless,

She treated men with contempt,

She’d flutter her painted eyelashes

In the Halls of the Regiment,

And many an Officer fell for her

In his red and his golden braid,

‘I never did like a uniform,

Too bad, you’re wearing a uniform!’

She’d turn her back on a uniform

And she’d smile as she walked away.

 

They said she’d been left at the altar

When she was barely seventeen,

She’d chosen a young subaltern, who

Renewed his vows to the Queen,

His regiment marched away that day

To the fields at Waterloo,

He carried his musket high with pride

Then tramped in mud through the countryside,

His blood was scattered both far and wide

When the battle was finally through!

 

I started attending the balls where she

Was teasing and taunting still,

I never was much of a dancer, but

I can foot a mean quadrille;

I tried my best to ignore her there,

Danced gaily round with a friend,

Whenever we’d meet, I’d turn away,

Look anywhere else, but not betray

The hints in her eyes or her body’s sway,

And I’d leave before the end!

 

The number of balls was endless when

The soldiers came marching home,

They feted the Duke of Wellington

For beating the Frenchies own;

And still I tried to avoid her there

This Caroline Ainslie Stack,

She’d follow me round the ballroom then,

A dancing card and a thrust out pen

But I wouldn’t sign, again and again,

Her eyes turned slowly black.

 

She caught me up in the village street,

She backed me against a wall,

Then said: ‘It’s not a man but a mouse

Won’t dance with me at the ball!’

I shrugged and murmured, and took my leave

She followed me all the way home;

I tried to remember the things I said

That night, it rattles on through my head,

I found her lying across my bed

Without a stitch of her own!

 

We married, back in the spring this year,

Caroline’s starting to show,

She holds my arm on the way to church

And she greets with a warm ‘Hello!’

I’ve never told how I fell in love,

How she cut me, clear to the bone,

But on evenings here, as warm as this

I can taste of my woman’s magic kiss,

And she tells me: ‘Dear, we live in bliss!’

She does - my Woman of Stone!

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[cynthiabuhainbaello]

Wow- what a love story! I marvel at your excellent skills and language expertise in narrative poetry and they are a treasure to read. Each piece you have written so far have been short stories written brilliantly on poetic form - which takes time and diligence to do! Thanks for sharing your marvelous work here for us to read and enjoy!

[Marie]

A love story with a happy ending. And well told...
He played the game well, didn't he?...I enjoyed the chase...

[Dean Kuch®]

You, sir, are the Mark Twain of the modern era. Your vividly descrptive style and flawless composition have the rare and uncanny ability to completely immerse the reader, transport them to another time and whisk them off on a frolicking adveture, holding them captive within the lines.

[BlackRose]

Once again, LOVE LOVE LOVE your works. Phenomenal. How the words roll off the tongue seemingly so effortlessly. Picturing in mind where and all that is happening as if the perosn's is right there. You have wonderful skills and is different each time you write with such great use of words. If you have any books published, I would buy them all . I would see you name without skimming, I know right off the bat that I would like it or them from all I have read so far. A TRUE poet. Someone anyone can learn from.

[Kimberly "Melody" Carne..]

I love the poetry betraying the lovers game never forfeited due to its endless flame.
The woman of stone loves to be alone only when covered by a crowd, but when they are gone her wanting is strong and chooses the Suitor refusing to bow.
This was a most lovely story written in perfect poetry, a masterpiece indeed. I am not sure if I took a breath until I finished the last line. Well played.

[Renée]

Fantastic ! What a wonderful story of a game of love ! Bravo Poet !