Family History Poem by David Lewis Paget

My father left when I was one,
Or maybe two - I don't recall,
I have no memory of him now,
No memory then, now none at all.

It didn't seem important then
I had my mother, she had me,
And Uncle George would call each day,
Call by most nights, and stay for tea.

I wasn't even curious,
My world was perfect as it was,
We lived beside a village green
And travelled by the village bus.

Our house was large, a mansion set
In Parklands, much too large for us,
Whole wings were closed and boarded in,
My mother said, 'it makes less fuss! '

It wasn't 'til I went to school
That doubts arose about my kin,
The boys would taunt and tease me there,
Would comment on my yellow skin.

They called me 'Squinty' for my eyes,
They looked so different then, to them,
My hair was black and very straight:
'You'll never make an Englishman! '

I asked my mother why I looked
So different, just like chalk and cheese,
She smiled and held me close to her,
And said: 'Your father was Chinese! '

'I met him through your Uncle George,
They served together in some war,
He charmed me once, but then he left,
Went off to fight for Chiang-Kai-shek.'

'I thought that he'd return one day
But truth to tell, he never did,
I heard that he'd been killed before
The White Army had turned and fled.'

She mentioned words I'd never heard
'Formosa', 'Tao' and 'Mao Zedong',
'Long March', 'Red Army', words that I
Remembered when no longer young.

I grew determined then to seek
The truth behind my history,
To find my father, where he lay,
Tear back the shroud of mystery.

'Don't do it, son, ' said Uncle George,
'Leave sleeping dogs to sleep the day,
For once you rouse them, sleeping dogs
Will never cease to bark and bay.'

'He's right, ' my mother said, her mouth
Was set, and she looked awful grim,
'You'll bring the terrors of the night
Down on us, if you look for him! '

My mind was set, I disagreed,
With all the folly of the young,
I thought that I could spend my need
And so made plans to see Taiwan.

I only got as far as London,
There I went to the G.R.O.,
Asked for the Births and Deaths they kept
To settle the questions I should know.

But when the book was placed before me
Words - they swam before my eyes,
The father stated at my birth
Was George Hubertus Syndon Wise!

I faltered then, and nearly fell
My heart it plunged to the floor, and then,
The mother plainly written there
Was one they called Wang Shu Qian.

My legs were weak, I barely stood,
My father was an Englishman,
I took a breath and walked the street...
My mother, a daughter of the Han.

I went back home to the mansion then
Ignored my mother upon the stairs,
Headed right up to the West Wing floor
They had boarded and banned me from, for years.

Tore the boards from the door and entered,
Thought I would find just cobwebs there,
But saw bright lights, and heard soft music,
A woman sat in an old wing chair.

I knew, the moment those almond eyes
Met mine, I looked on my mother then,
The tears ran down from her high cheek bones
To stain her dress, Wang Shu Qian.

She'd lived forever behind these doors
All boarded in for a secret's sake,
And George had been with her, now and then
My father, living his life - a fake!

But all about there were artifacts,
Screens and parchments and vellum scripts,
Priceless furniture, paintings, figures,
Dragons, pearls, and the odd Phoenix.

George came stumbling up the stairs
His face dead white when he saw me there,
'My boy... I told you...' he said, then stopped
As grey ran worrying through his hair.

The hoard was that from a Chinese palace,
Wang Shu Qian was a keeper there,
They'd fled the rape of the communists
Taken their baggage with Chiang Kai shek.

'When things are settled we'll give it back, '
My mother told me in Pu Tong Hua,
George translated her every sentence,
Love shone out from his eyes for her.

'Her name is top of their wanted list,
They hired assassins to search for her,
We thought it best to concoct those lies
To protect you from the world out there.'

My sister took on the role of mother,
You were only a baby then,
While Shu Qian despaired to hold you,
Show you love as her only son.

The hoard has since been returned to China,
Both my mothers live openly now,
I've been taking a course in language
Coming to grips with Pu Tong Hua.

My family history seems complete,
I know as much as I need to know,
The dogs are sleeping, skeletons rest
And I won't disturb their sleep - No How!


(Note: The Chinese pronounce Chiang Kai shek
as Jiang kuh sher.
Pu Tong Hua = Pu Tong Hwa = Beijing Dialect.
Wang Shu Qian = Wong Shoe Chee-en) .

25 December 2008