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Open Poetry #43
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The Ballad of Isabelle Rose
| Open Poetry #43 |
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The Ballad of Isabelle Rose |
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TheAnonDavid Member
since 2008-08-28
Posts 237UK 
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As the day stole away in the ev'ning's repose Down the path to the sea walked fair Isabelle Rose. All the songbirds fell silent, as silent as death, And the breeze was as soft as a young maiden's breath. Soon her feet were awash with the incoming tide, And its insistent power could not be denied. Yet she still kept on walking with effortless grace Till the water crept up round her white flowing lace. But fair Isabelle Rose could not feel the waves dance And she slowly kept walking as if in a trance. As the water lapped higher her face showed no fear, Not a sign of emotion, not even a tear. Not a sign, not a sound, as she slipped out of sight; Gone from view ere the sun sank away in the night; Just the glint on the water - a tangle of hair: Look again - it's as if she had never been there. "Oh! Now who," you are asking, "was yonder fair maid? Tell me why was there no one to go to her aid?" If we go to yon tavern and sup us some ale - Over there, my dear list'ner, I'll tell you the tale. ********** On a day long ago in a warm early spring, In the time of young Charlie, the cavalier king, The fair Isabelle Rose was a girl of sixteen Just as bright as the morning and twice as serene. But her heart remained empty, both empty and void Because love had no place, it was always destroyed. And the young village suitors could not understand Just why no one was able to win her fair hand. While young Isabelle Rose showed no sign of conceit All the young men would court her and fall at her feet. But the gentle young maid kept herself well apart With a secret well hidden deep inside her heart. Not long after her birth, to his lasting regret, Her poor father had pledged her to settle his debt. The wet harvests had threatened to starve all his kin So he traded his daughter, a frightening sin. In her seventeenth year she must give up her hand Or her family would starve and be thrown from the land. Now that date fast approached and the sun would soon rise When the wicked old landlord would claim his fair prize. It was barely a month from the ill omened date When young Isabelle Rose threw a challenge to fate; On a fair day in spring with the sun high above This most sweet of all maidens fell deeply in love. The young fair haired shepherd who gave her his heart Sang the gentlest of songs and vowed never to part; So she listened in silence, her tears softly shed As he told how he loved her and wanted them wed. But he lived without knowledge of secrets unknown And poor Isabelle Rose felt more lost and alone. There was no way to tell him and days drifted by But she never could leave him, could not say 'goodbye. **************** Are you tiring dear listener? Bored with my tale? For the price of its telling is covered by ale. Lubrication my friend will soon loosen my chords And such words, as they say, are much stronger than swords. Settle back once again there is more I must say As I tell you what happened that last fearful day. As I tell you the secrets that no stranger knows The sad truth of the last days of Isabelle Rose. ******************* The young shepherd met nightly with Isabelle Rose And they walked yonder path where the starlight fair glows; Hand in hand they would walk in their own silent bliss And then stop by the shoreline and share a sweet kiss. On that last fateful night as they walked arm in arm There was love in their hearts and no cause for alarm Because this was the end of their meetings unseen As tomorrow they'd fly when she turned seventeen. She had told her young love of her father's sad pledge And of how it had sent her to madness's edge. The young shepherd then promised, and gave her new hope, By the first light of morning they both would elope. But then out of the shadows a dark shape appeared And it seemed to grow larger - above them it reared. With a deadly report and a bright angry flash There was first a loud moan then a sickening crash. The young shepherd fell down with a red bloody stain As a pistol ball entered, then shattered, his brain. Through the darkness a face was lit up in the night And young Isabelle Rose screamed in terrible fright. The old landlord was standing with pistol in hand As he gazed at the body, so cold and offhand. With a scream the young woman saw what had been done And she pulled up her skirts and she started to run. The beach pathway was blocked as the landlord stood near And young Isabelle Rose was now shaking with fear. To the sea she now turned, to the incoming tide And the landlord soon followed his unwilling bride. He then grabbed her fair throat as she struggled for breath But she would not allow him to choke her to death. She broke free from his grasp and plunged under a wave; The fair Isabelle Rose chose her own wat'ry grave. The old landlord was burdened with terrible grief[ Two young lives had been stolen and he was the thief, So he loaded the pistol for one final time Though the trigger when pulled hardly paid for the crime. *************** My dear list'ner for just one more glass of good ale I will tell you the end of this terrible tale. For a death does not end a good yarn, don't you know? Settle back once again we have not far to go. Ah! The ale goes down well and refreshes the brain But don't worry I won't drink it down in one drain. I shall wait till the end and by Jesu's good grace I shall take my last draught as I look at your face. ******************** Many years have rolled by since that terrible night But the mem'ries have lingered so vividly bright. People talk of the maiden, so proud and so brave But fair Isabelle Rose has no head stone nor grave. As she slid 'neath the water, no more to return, With no person to miss her and no-one to yearn, How she wished for her shepherd to hold her fair hand And her soul started searching across the dark land. She still searches the pathway and searches the shore And she can't find her shepherd for he is no more. But some stories are told , though I can't guarantee, There is many a stranger she'll coax to the sea. The fair Isabelle Rose you have seen by the shore My advice, dearest list'ner, is go there no more. Now my glass I have emptied, I'll leave you my friend For by now I am weary, my tale's at an end. *********************** When the stranger had left I recalled word for word His ridiculous story; I thought it absurd How a woman from hist'ry, from many years past Could still walk on the earth - how such nonsense can last. So I walked from the tavern, out in the dark night. There were no stars out shining that dark moonless night. I stood there on the pathway, and stared at the sea As I heard the soft surf - was it calling to me? And just what did I feel brush against my cool face? Were they soft gentle fingers? I felt my heart race. So I fled from that scene, you can say that I chose Not to walk to the sea with fair Isabelle Rose. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Dylan Thomas [This message has been edited by TheAnonDavid (09-09-2008 03:56 PM).] |
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| © Copyright 2008 David M M (UK) - All Rights Reserved | |||
Alison 
since 2008-01-27
Posts 9318Lumpy oatmeal makes me crazy! |
Breathlessly applauds! What a storyteller you are. Each is a keeper. Alison |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
Absolutely wonderful to read aloud~~ I enjoyed every word and loved how smoothly they spoke to me. An excellent write! I could almost picture this as a booklet with illustration for each verse. M |
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Margherita Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236Eternity |
Dear David, this is a spectacular tale, it felt so real and gave me Goosebumps. It flows so well, it seems you wrote this effortlessly. The story is very captivating and you have shown your great talent in rendering it. I printed it out and read it at lunch hour … but I was not weary at all. It means you are very good! Love, Margherita  |
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Joyce Johnson
since 2001-03-10
Posts 9912Washington State |
Dear David. This is so very well done. It reminds me of "The Face on the Bar-room Floor" only more intrigueing. I will look for more of your postings. Joyce |
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OwlSA Member Rara Avis
since 2005-11-07
Posts 9347Durban, South Africa |
Here, David, is another pint of ale, and another and another, and another - please don't stop our stories. I don't normally enjoy rhyme - use it very seldom in a whole poem myself - but you use it so superbly and your poems are enhanced by your rhyme that flows like the ripples in a stream. I can't wait for your next poem. - Owl |
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Marchmadness Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 9271So. El Monte, California |
What a wonderful poem , David. You do have a way with a story. I enjoyed every line and can't wait for the next one. Ida |
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TheAnonDavid Member
since 2008-08-28
Posts 237UK |
Thanks to you. I shall make sure that Isabelle Rose does not make any surprise visits to taverns near you. Do not go gentle into that good night. |
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LeeJ Member Patricius
since 2003-06-19
Posts 13296 |
this was an astounding story, which drew me in and carried me and my mind to a place where stories live...tremendous write...thank you so much for sharing... Loved this Hugs Lee J. By the way, my son's name is David, therefore, you own a special place in my heart. |
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miscellanea Member Elite
since 2004-06-24
Posts 4060OH |
a captivating ballad! Enjoyed immensely, ~miscellanea |
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