Poor Poet's Scroll

"No sword
Of wrath her right arm whirl'd, [6]
But one poor poet's scroll, and with 'his' word
She shook the world." - Tennyson, 'The Poet'

I may not shake the world, but I do believe in the power of words.


18. Rebecca

Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley

and sensed her spirit ‘midst the smouldering ruin.

Floating down the staircase gracefully

unaware of distant storm clouds brewing.

The child that Mrs Danvers never bore

trapped in a loveless marriage with no release.

A new life flourished inside her she was sure

but an evil growth would never give her peace.

Beneath the Cornish sea, her fishing boat lies,

A single hole to question the jury’s mind.

Her name echoes within the gull’s harsh cries.

To her cruel, callous nature, all were blind.


Mrs de Winter his love for you was cursed

but to Maxim, you’ll always be the first.

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