Diabolick!

(Byron's governess, May Gray, would come to bed with him at night

and "play tricks with his person". According to Byron, this "caused

the anticipated melancholy of my thoughts"having anticipated life").

 

I lay awake, most every night,

Tucked in my bed at Aberdeen,

And waited for that footstep light,

My Governess, my Demon Queen.

 

I was but nine, or ten at most

When she climbed underneath my sheet,

I heard her breathing in my head

Her hands, ice cold about my feet.

 

And she would whisper soft to me

Would play strange tricks to rouse me there,

My teeth would chatter in my sleep,

Across my face, her perfumed hair.

 

Her lips were red, would seek my mouth

And I would gasp to catch each breath,

While she would threaten, 'make no sound,

Or you may seek the shades of death!'

 

Then she would mount, and raise her gown

And smother me beneath her sex,

While I would, desperate, look around

No Saviour came, no God protects!

 

My mother's alcoholic breath

Lay snoring in her favourite chair,

She called me lame, a little brat,

I saw no mother's instinct there.

 

The Governess, May Gray abused,

And beat me almost every day,

What chance had I to live and love

With women, in the normal way?

 

I lived, anticipated life

Before that I was even ten,

And so I rated womankind,

I loved and cursed them, even then.

 

So judge me not! My life was filled

With scandals that re-crossed my path,

And Caroline was most unkind

When she composed my epitaph.

 

She wrote the words you know me by

Once I had sought to let her go,

She sat in silence, scrawled the words,

'Mad, bad, and dangerous to know!'

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

When one thinks of a child being abused in such a fashion, it is most often females being abused by men. More than anything, I think that's a sad statement about our society that we expect males to be immune to such abuse; and if they are abused, that they should be stronger and rise above it.

Regardless of the sex of the child, such abuse has to be an absolute terror. To have a drunkard for a mother, in the next room no less, that allows the abuse to continue is simply unforgiveable.

I grew up in such an environment myself; and when I hear of like circumstances, it makes me madder than hell. There isn't enough justice in the world for people who abuse children.

As always, you take a bit of history, put it in context for us all to appreciate, and evoke emotions that spark a fire.

Great job!

Linda Marie Van Tassell

[Dom Macchiaroli]

This is good, and I love the historical context. Knowing absolutely nothing about Byron, I will have to educate myself. Thank you sir, terrific piece.

[Valentine]

A terrific write as always..I saw this on another site and it was better reading it the second tiome..You are a master of short poetry tales David..love and God bless Lyn and yourself..Kathie

[Mark]

More's the pity, that I am not more familiar with the life of Byron (npi), so it was the first review that took me back for a second read. I guess the biography shelf shall be my last stop before leaving the library today!
As ever, my astonishingly erudite Aussie, you leave me breathless in wonder at your skillful manner of turning the peccadilloes of man...and, apparently, WOMAN as well...into beautiful verse. Thought-provoking as ever! Mark

[Lena M. P.]

You took a very appalling offense and handled it very delicately giving the reader a better outlook on the psyche of Byron. So often we blame the adult, not looking beyond what they have become, to look at what molded them in the beginning. The poem flows seamlessly from one line to the next building like a ballad. Nicely written. You have your muse back.

[DBURKE]

I agree with Drock_ also this poem had such a wonderful flow and smooth transition from one stanza to the next! Great write!

[Doreen]

This is such a sad story told quite eloquently. Your words dance upon the page, captivating the reader. Thank you so much for sharing. I enjoyed this very much.

[Mary]

i love the way your words flow it lulls you