The Second-Hand Gown

He wandered along old Codshill Street,

Quite late on that Christmas Eve,

And scanned the used haberdashery

Society ladies would leave,

The hats they’d worn, but only the once,

The boots with barely a scuff,

The poplin prints they hadn’t worn since,

A single dance was enough.

He stood outside in his working boots

The ones he wore at the mill,

He hadn’t had time to change himself

He should have been working still.

But in his pocket he clutched the pound

He’d saved for many a day,

He’d squirrelled each shilling away for months

Out of his meagre pay.

And all he could see was Mirabelle,

Who lodged at his heart and eye,

She worked upstairs in the counting room

Above where the shuttles fly,

And he would glimpse her once in a while

Pottering to and fro,

Dressed in a worn and paltry frock

Where the stitching was letting go.

He’d wait outside, and follow her home

To see she was safe and sound,

The rogues that he’d meet in Codshill Street

Would keep their eyes on the ground.

While she was aware of his loving gaze

And sometimes gave him a smile,

Others were bold in their loving ways

And pressed their court for a while.

And so it was on this Christmas Eve

That a Squire had stood at her door,

With a string of pearls you wouldn’t believe

He’d bought in a jeweller’s store,

And she was flushed as she let him in,

So pleased to have such a gift,

For she was only a working girl

And his interest gave her a lift.

But there in the haberdashery

In a window, stood at the side,

Was standing a model, dressed entire

In a gown so fine, he’d cried.

He thought he could see his Mirabelle

In place of the mannequin,

In the gown of grey crushed velvet, so

In a moment then, went in.

‘You know that the gown is second-hand,’

The girl explained to his stare,

‘Here are a couple of tiny stains,

And there is a little tear.

But this, that once cost a hundred pounds

Is a bargain now for a cause,

If you can give me a single pound 

This lovely gown can be yours.’

She placed the gown in a long flat box,

And tied a ribbon around,

Then he flew out to his Mirabelle

In hopes she still could be found.

He saw the pearls were around her neck

When she had opened the door,

But once she pulled out the gown, she checked,

And dropped the pearls on the floor.

Her kiss was sweet on that Christmas Eve,

Though he had showed her the stains,

The tears she shed on that gorgeous thread

He said, were like summer rains,

She had no time for the wealthy Squire,

She’d waited for him all along,

Her greatest gift was a second-hand gown

With the love that the gown came from.

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Jane Winters Rogers]

I have cried again over one of your poems, very heart wrenching so sweet what a loving man, and she a loving woman. She did not need to think twice, mirabelle, was wise and real,she knew love is far better than pearls bought to impress her, and others who saw her wear them....the line you wrote that got to me the most?...He stood outside in his working boots the ones he wore at the mill oh! So humble! he was a working man she a working woman who chose her man, an honest loving hard working man who had been watching out for Mirabelle. Endless love for both of them. I think this storyline would make a great book.
"her kiss was sweet on that Christmas Eve' ....though he had shown her the stains....she had waited for him all along.......stunningly touching and lovely....real love prevails..they are blessed.
............... Thank you for this lovely Christmas poem............

[Celie Rose]

I really enjoyed reading your poem. Love is priceless. "Her greatest gift was a second-hand gown
With the love that the gown came from." Well written. Keep writing.

[ANTO]

True love cant be bought - Squire tried to buy her but our hero's desire to see Mirabelle happy came from pure love which he got back.
Gorgeous romance DLP.

[Einstein Noodle]

these stories in verse, books, and movies bring that lump to my throat and start to well up the tears .. so glad he got the gal ... makes me leap with Christmas joy .. its a keeper says i!
E.

[Barbz]

How beautifully romantic and likewise apropos to the Season of loving and giving. The second-hand nature with perhaps a tear stain...or rent, touches this readers heart, as does the choice over the lavish gift by the rejected potential suitor. How lovely and a bit different, but definitely as beautiful and refreshing as the "summer rains", penned, of course, in your own inimitable fashion. Lovely! Merry Christmas to you and your family....Barbz