Daydreams Poem by David Lewis Paget

I sit every day in an office, and play
With a ledger that carries my name,
And stare from the window, the clouds scudding grey
On a sky that is always the same,
The river winds down by the weed-winding bank
But is sluggish and slow in its ride,
Heading on out to the estuary, carrying
Debris, adrift on the tide.

Just about here was the place, where in fear
They once straddled the river in chains,
And called up the hundreds, with helmet and shield
To defend this poor land from the Danes,
And often I peer through the rain and the mist
And the grime on the window without,
Imagining Vikings enmeshed in the chains,
And struggling there, to get out.

The office is staffed by grey people in need
Who would like to get home to the wife,
They mutter in tones of their essence and creed
While some of us just want a life,
But Caroline Chambers is not one of these
She's a flower, sprung out of the weeds,
And I see, as she flits between coffees and teas
She's a Saxon, her coffee is mead.

She pushes the trolley that carries the swords
And the helmets, and buckler's too,
As she stands by my desk for a chat and a rest
She's defiant; she's one of the few.
As she stares out the window, I hear her declare
That she's not going to put up with this,
The Danish accountant has stolen her chair
And her venom is mouthed with a hiss.

‘I'll poison his coffee, you see if I don't, '
And her Saxon blood comes to the boil,
I get fleeting visions of lopping his head,
Or perhaps we should boil him in oil?
She wanders away and she hands out the pay
As I ravish her there in my mind,
And she stares up at me from a puddle of tea
Mutters, ‘How could you be so unkind? '

The following day I can see the affray
As the Legions march into the town,
The Roman Centurions glitter with gold
With their standards held high, not put down,
And Caroline Chambers, Welsh bonnet and dress
With a lilt in her voice, brings the teas,
She stands by the chariot of Boadicea,
Brings the Legions of Rome to their knees!

I sit every day in an office, and play
With a ledger that carries my name,
And stare from the window, the clouds scudding grey
On a sky that is always the same,
But Caroline Chambers has shared in my dreams
Though she has no idea, she's my wife,
As I live in the daydreams of coloured and grey dreams
And desperately search for a life!

23 September 2012