The Ferryman

In April, back in twenty-one

Inside the Castle Myrmidon,

I worked the Master’s stables

And I groomed Milady’s mare.

The Baroness De Ville would roam

The country on her chestnut roan,

And I would lead her safely home

And tend to her despair.

 

They kept her close and under key

In fear that she might turn and flee,

But she was trapped by geography

Beside the River Styx,

The river turned and turned about

Confined her where the bank ran out

And often there, I heard her shout:

‘Save me from Asterix!’

 

The Knight, Sir Asterix had planned

To ask her for her maiden hand,

But she had turned in terror, and

Had flown up to her room…

There in the tower she stayed locked in

Until the Knight left Myrmidon,

Enraged, he swore that she’d be won,

By Whitsun afternoon!

 

Her uncle raged: ‘This cannot be,

You can’t treat him haphazardly,

I’ll see you wed to Asterix

Or else I’ll turn you out!’

‘I’d rather be a beggar first,

Bereft of food, unslaked of thirst,

At least I know what would be worst,’

I heard Milady shout!

 

The master was Sir Oswald Gray

Of temper mean, that ruled the day

He held her fortune locked away

She said she didn’t care,

The slight allowance that he gave

Was not enough to spend or save

But she was young, and she was brave

And stood up to him there!

 

They locked her in the tower room

In shadows, in the deepest gloom,

She wailed all night, as in a tomb

And tore her auburn hair!

I took her tit-bits in the night

Pushed through the grill, to her delight

And there she told me of her plight…

She loved Sir Gordon Ware!

 

Sir Gordon lived at Castle Pride

Some miles across the countryside,

But cut off by the river wide,

(She cried in her despair).

But stories of this Asterix

His alchemy, his darker fits

With murder not the least of it,

Had terrorised her there!

 

I wandered to the river bank

To where an ancient boat had sank,

And there I met a Ferryman,

A dwarf with one good eye:

‘What brings you to the riverside?’

He looked out at the countryside

And turned his blind eye high and wide;

I shuddered, fit to die!

 

I told him of Milady’s plight

How she wept bitterly at night

And would escape, if she but might;

The Ferryman said: ‘See…

Bring me three crowns of gold, my friend,

The lady, to the river’s bend,

What they don’t know, they’ll never mend,

My oars will make her free!’

 

At Whitsun, she was dressed so fine

In wedding lace, and crepe design,

I held her hand, and she held mine

Out to the stable door;

I’d saddled up the roan for her

She leapt aboard, and called me ‘sir’

And thanked me to the river’s spur,

The Ferryman said ‘Whoa!’

 

For back, and at the Castle Gate

There came a flash, a coach and eight

That raced to claim her heart, too late,

Though Asterix screamed: ‘No!’

She leapt the ferry with a laugh,

I passed the Kronors to the dwarf

And soon they swirled beyond the wharf,

Out in the undertow!

 

But Asterix then left me there

With blood congealed, and through my hair,

And told me, I should never dare

His country, now or soon;

But of Milady, I could see

She had escaped her misery,

And so my heart was light and free

Until that afternoon!

 

A peasant told me, passing by

That I had need to sit and cry,

I asked about the Ferryman

And this is what he said:

‘There hasn’t been a Ferryman

At this point of the river plan

Since ever Adam was a man,

The Ferryman is dead!’

 

‘He got caught in the undertow

And floated down and down below,

The raging current took him so

And drowned him in the Styx.’

At times though, there’s a troglodyte

Who boats here on a Whitsun night,

They say he is a dreadful sight,

Brought low by Asterix!

 

He was, they say, a fulsome page

That Asterix attacked in rage,

And worked his alchemy to stunt

His body, and his sight,

Since when he’s roamed the riverside

In search of someone else’s bride,

One kiss may just reverse the tide

Of Asterix’s spite!

 

So now on evenings, when I go

To sit beside the river flow

I hear a voice to ghostly go:

‘Of love, I’ve drunk my fill!’

And then I see the coach and eight

In flight and through the Castle Gate,

Where Asterix stares out in hate,

He’s looking for her still!

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[roarke]

A tangible mythology, the forlorn innocent, the manic manipulators, the simple do-gooder, the caprices of love unrequited.... it's all there and more. Great style, vintage storytelling. A tale of what happens when we let other's run our lives. Bravo.

[Tkess]

This is a wonderfully done poem. Reminds me of some medieval lore. Beautifully crafted storytelling.

[emmajoy]

A flow of a tale, start to finish! You have the wonderful ability to bring myths and all to life, David. Familiar characters take on new charm and interest .. or one boos and sisses the villains, or, as in this case, that evil Asterix.

What a tangled love life Milady had; hopefully she rests now, sleeping in her history and smiling. You've certainly done her proud.

[Amila Jay]

Wow, what a poem, was really captured by the words, excellent write:-)

[shultzfeather]

sweet
bitchin good

[Kat Collins]

Delightful poem written with a wonderful mastery of old language. I love the story of unrequited love. Excellent.

[patricia]

Your genius is in understatement ...you fit a whole, wonderful folk lore and fit it together so intricately into one long epic that reads almost like a Beowulf, it sounds divine and its execution is truly brilliant, as always there is that little twist, and light humour, Long live David Lewis Paget!!! Dont go away now I have found you. Brilliant. Thanks David.

[Marie]

What a wonderful, terrifying, beautiful ballad.