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Open Poetry #44
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Windhover
Member
since 2003-11-17
Posts 179
UK

0 posted 2009-04-25 12:15 PM





     


Another tale; this time, not so much creepy... more, a curious thing;
enough to make a hardened cynic doubt... perhaps, a smile to bring.
Like something out of Oscar Wilde... perhaps, The Ghost of Canterville;
a fatuous allegory... I know; but in it, you will find no ill.
For it concerns the strange occurrence at the Manor of Calshott Green;
one bright. and glorious summer day, a young Police Constable had been
on patrol,
when suddenly, a woman... pretty, and quite young,
ran up to him in great distress... her tears, all glistening in the sun.

He said she wore a long blue gown... he thought the style was Empire line...
but this was several years ago; in fashion, everything was fine.
He said she spoke a curious way... precise... concise, her use of word;
like something from another age... not anything he usually heard.
She cried,
"Oh, sir... pray help me if you would; Calamity, I fear...
repair with me to yonder house... a child has tumbled in the Mere."
He ran with her up to the Lake, and yes... a child, ten yards from shore
was foundering;
straight in he jumped, and pulled the child back safe, once more.

A little girl, half drowned... the kiss of life, he gave, and she revived...
coughing, choking, spluttering... frightened; soaking wet, but yes; alive!
He wrapped his tunic round the child, turned to the woman by his side...
asked her name; she gently smiled...
"Emma Spenser," she replied.
He turned again; picked up the child, and started out towards the house...
he turned to speak to her... she wasn't there... gone... silent as a mouse.
Perhaps she didn't want a fuss; up to the house... knock on the door;
hand the child back to her mother; tell of what had gone before.

But, at the mention of the woman's name... a look of shocked surprise.
The mother said... "But, this is Emma"... with a strange look in her eyes.
She saw that he was quite confused...
she said "I don't know... you decide;
come with me... I'll show you something;"
and she turned, and went inside
to a room all hung with portraits; there... a woman dressed in blue;
she said "Look carefully... look closely, is she familiar to you?"
The Constable could not believe his eyes... the portrait was the same
pretty woman who had called him, frantically... down in the lane.

He searched the portrait... no mistake; yes, it was her... that face again.
The plaque read.... "Emma Spenser. 1789 - 1810."
The mother said; "My daughter is the first one of this family
who has been christened Emma for two hundred years; because, you see...
the Emma you see up there, died in childbirth, aged just twenty-one;
and, of the children born since then... well, every one has been a son,
until our daughter Emma came... the first girl child to bear the name
of Spenser since THAT Emma died. Could it be, that back she came...

Some sort of guardian angel, watching over Emma, all this time...
so there would be no further tragedy to strike the female line?"
The Constable said he didn't know...
this thing, was far beyond...
he thought,
anything that he had seen... how could he write up this report?
Accepting her effusive thanks... he eyed the portrait for a while;
perhaps imagination, but... she seemed to smile a softer smile
than he had seen before, upon that pretty face; eternally
captured in the portrait hanging there; and, as he turned away...

He said he felt a tiny shiver down his spine, and turned once more...
it seemed her eyes were watching... smiling; quickly, he walked out the door.
And, as he walked back down the drive... all lost in deep and troubled thought;
down by the lake... a flash of blue, the corner of his eye, then caught.
Probably a Kingfisher... he reached the long drive's farthest reaches;
he said, perhaps, it was the wind, gently stirring in the beeches...
but he swore he heard a woman's voice that whispered, clear and true;
the same, soft voice that he had heard before..."I Thank you, sir... Thank you."

This is a true tale, though... you may think that it reads like fantasy;
a slight embellishing, perhaps... to make it read like poetry.
But, the bare facts still remain... unaltered from the Police report,
and, you really must admit... it gives a lot of scope for thought.
For example... how did that young Constable know of the child
in the lake;
when, from the road... the lake was fully half a mile?
How, could he imagine meeting with this girl, in gown of blue?
How could he know about the portrait?... nothing of these things, he knew.

The Manor and the Family names are changed... but that, is down to me;
some small poetic licence, and... protecting anonymity.
and, it is still just a poem; food for thought late, in the night;
slightly creepy... very curious...
Pleasant dreams...
Goodnight...
Sleep tight.


© Copyright 2009 Windhover - All Rights Reserved
Earth Angel
Member Empyrean
since 2002-08-27
Posts 40215
Realms of Light
1 posted 2009-04-25 01:14 PM


An extraordinary tale! ~ One which I believe!
A memorable experience, indeed!!! ~ and you shared it so vividly. I still have tingles running up and down my arms, back, and spine!


Linda


Rex Allen McCoy
Member Elite
since 2000-01-30
Posts 2863
Sippin a Timmy's in London
2 posted 2009-04-26 04:14 PM


Definitely "food for thought" here ... glad I didn't miss this one

excellent

suthern
Deputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Seraphic
since 1999-07-29
Posts 20723
Louisiana
3 posted 2009-04-27 10:39 AM


but he swore he heard a woman's voice that whispered, clear and true;
the same, soft voice that he had heard before..."I Thank you, sir... Thank you."

You are a master storyteller... I hang onto every word! *S*

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