A poem based upon the beginning scenes of Wild Child by Enya in the music video. A tragedy full of saddness, loss, horror and the after life of those past...

The Woman In White.

Chill wind.
Fog dense.
Night sets in
Mystery; hence.

Black iron gates
Blue grey smoke rises still.
The air, it tastes,
Of must, mould and dill.

Dark shadows playing.
Moon obliterated from sight.
Two ice blue eyes appear, unblinking,staring.
Tis the woman in white.

A swing of old iron and dust and rust
Creaks, screams of hinged age.
No more is it sat on, no more rush! rush!
It is gilded, it is silent in motion like a bird trapped within a cage.

Heavy atmosphere.
Darkness surrounds.
There’s only the ghosts of the dead here.

The eyes continue, they stare
Move slowly towards the right.
And from the bleakness it appears; the house is standing there!
As clear as day is from night.

A balcony.
A light.
And there she is standing, can't you see?
The Woman in White.

Conflict and sorrow.
Not petulance nor plague.
Are what keep her locked behind the gates for every tomorrow.
Unable to rest and sleep, where her other ancestors have been laid.

The guests below turn up their snouts.
Such distraction, possible subject for gossip, is truly Heaven sent!

Pleas and cries.
Hushed replies.
For the heart unable to love whom it wish.

She nears the edge.
He follows forward,
Her hands scrape the ledge.
What misery must beseech her, for marrying an elderly Lord?

His temper grim.
Her eyes tear brimmed.
She proclaims her love for another, never him!
From below, her ladies maids face doth cringe.

"You fool! You stupid little fool!"
Echo in and out and through the manor walls.
"You'll soon learn that I am your husband! What I say must be taken as rule!"

And so her reply.
To her lovers ears are transmitted
As he reaches the path beneath with pant and sigh.
"I do not love you! Never were two so ill fitted!"

Bulge of eyes
Cough of shock.
Red of face, he turns his head to the sky.
"You are a fool! Just a stupid little fool of whom I mock!

"You were never worth all this wonderful life,
"Of jewels and dresses, rings, your hearts delight!
"I've never regretted a day, till I made you my wife!"
And so you'll always be known as the virginal woman in white!"

Below in the bushes
Her lover doth hear.
Hurrying forth, past the ladies maid he pushes.
He knows tragedy is near.

"Ring out the bells!
"I send you into the night!
"Here come the jaws of a thousand Hells!
"For my pretty little wife in white!"

A scream.
A shout.
A grunt of unused strength exercised in the extreme.
Downstairs men laugh and their ladies pout.

And down from the balcony
Floats a sliver of light.
To the feet of her lover, in his eyes he doth see
The crumpled, frail body of the Woman in White.

"And now for him!"
The fat Lord with madness shouts.
"I'll reek havoc grim!
"Till I slay that cowardly lout!"

The sobs of her ladies maid.
The tears of her lover.
The shouts of her murderous husband; crazed!
The stealthy steps of a beast hidden; undercover.

"Gather your guns, swords and axes, we slay!
"That dastardly man has pushed my dear young wife
"From the top of the left hand balcony!”
The lover isn't afraid, he's already been robbed of his life.

"Go Sir, please do, flee whilst you dare!
"Come the pleas of a ladies maid
With no more worldly care.
From the side of the house come voices ary, each angry, none to rest, till a life has been repaid.

But not a muscle
Does he move.
Unaware of the blood soaked tussle
He must soon ensue.

"Come friends of might!
"To the side of the house!
"He's probably disappeared into the night.
"But we'll catch that Hell damned louse!"

"Please Sir, you must go."
Came a plea once more.
The beasts eyes lifted high, then low
Come people, your mine to lure!

"From the corners of Heaven!
"To the edge of the earth!
"From dawn till eleven,
"We'll make him pay for taking my life’s worth!"

Shouts of encouragement.
Hands thirsty for blood.
The Lord skulks in the shadows, round the corner like a runt.
As they spy the lover, still kneeling in mud.

"Get up ye dog! And fight like a man!
"I'll teach you to kill my sweet girl,
"I shall thwart any plan
"You may have of escape after stealing my gem, my precious pearl."

And so forth did the men go.
Weapons ready for gore.
And from the depths of Heaven did pour the first snow.
"Come on then! What do you wait for?

"My darling is dead,
"Tis no matter to me if I die!
"I'm afraid you have all been led
"Into a despicable lie!"

"Listen not to that murderous crow!
"His life in danger,
"He'll take anyway of escape he may know.
"Come friends, come forth and help me kill this fiend, a thruppence to every man who strikes, as reward I shall wager!"

Angered shouts.
Flames of bright.
The beast sees and ready, two, four, it will pounce!
And disturb those by appearing from within the night.

"Move from the path!"
The Lord at the maid he did holler.
"Lest ye wish to feel my wrath!"
He went forward and handled her by the collar.

A shove was all it took
She was down on the ground.
From within the leaves two amber eyes shone through a nook.
Its figure made not a sound.

And so forth it sprang
A growl and a cry
Through the night was sang
The terrified screams of the Lords men sly.

Within moments all were gone,
All lay dead.
But twasnt the moon on the scene that shone.
But the piercing eyes of the beasts head.

Everyone was hunted down.
Not a soul escaped.
The beast, full, lay down, its teeth blood red brown.
Everyone was dead within the confinements of the gates.

Their ghosts unrecovered.
Their earthly bodies so mauled.
The tale became a legend uttered
By those who by authority had been told.

A house left, unwanted, not for buy nor borrow.
Twas too wound up in mortal humans fears.

Stand here at your will.
This place is one of tragedy, of happiness; nearly.

Bereavement tireless.
Its a sick place, yet not one born of illness.

Footsteps silent.
Not the tyrants.
From within the darkness the beast it purrs.

Now itself a spirit
Its come and is no longer ravenous.
But you can do no more than hear it
For the beast could still be, to strangers, dangerous.

Dark curls.
Blue eyes.
A white skirt no longer in dances it whirls.
Aspirit always confine to a starless, moon snatched sky.

Black Heart Manor.
Forever shall be,
Without summer fete, balls, trestle table and banner.
It is no longer compared to gay Parie.

A land now just for ghosts
Unable to rest.
The Lord, still a terrible man, a host.
Beneath his families blackened crest.

And forever it shall be in all darkness, devoid of any light.
A spirit world robbed of any feelings good and right.
That the woman in white
Shall haunt the night.

Submitted: September 09, 2007

© Copyright 2022 Anne Hastings Hughes. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Facebook Comments

Other Content by Anne Hastings Hughes