LONGER NARRATIVE POEMS
By Josie Whitehead
Now on the other side of town
Lived someone who was feeling down:
Her Mum had died and now her Dad
Had found a new wife - somewhat bad!
Like all stepmothers of her time,
This wicked woman, in her prime,
Brought some baggage - daughters, two -
Ugly and stupid through and through.
The husband’s daughter, Cinderella,
Was quickly dispatched to the cellar
And the only time that she was seen
Was just to sew, to cook and clean.
Poor Cinders, as she now was known,
Was not allowed to cry or moan,
And, dressed in rags, she spent her days
Filled to the brink with sad malaise.
Her Dad, enrapt with his new wife,
Had no concern for Cinders’ life,
And so, poor girl, unknown to him,
Her life, now sadly changed, was grim.
One day, just as a stepchild should,
She went outside to gather wood.
Out in the forest, in deep snow,
And where the keenest winds did blow,
She saw a woman, thin and old,
Who shivered in the biting cold.
Cinders was both kind and sweet -
A girl more caring you’ll not meet.
She gave her shoes, she gave her coat.
Her scarf, she wrapped around her throat.
She didn’t stop to reason why
But took her home to get her dry.
By the warm fire, now dry and fed,
These are the words the stranger said:
'Your plight in life is sad to see,
But things will change. Leave it to me.'
With these words said, she didn’t stay
But quickly went off on her way.
This day had other things in store
For a loud knock came on the door.
Postman Paul stood waiting there,
Carrying something with great care.
An invite to a royal ball
Was read with glee within the hall.
Excitement reigned in high supreme.
For most girls this was but a dream.
The stepmother, with greatest pride,
Said: 'One of you will be his bride.'
You’d never meet an uglier pair -
And yet the prince they hoped to snare.
Poor chap, imagine every day
Waking to the likes of they!!!
And Cinderella? Her invite?
No, she was kept well out of sight.
Confined to kitchen floors and soap,
For Cinders there was little hope.
Some gowns arrived and were displayed.
Then shoes and wigs were on parade.
The giggling girls, except for one,
Talked of dancing and of fun.
They little cared for Cinders’ thoughts
As they displayed the things they’d bought.
Her job was just to clear their mess
Whilst one of them would be princess.