My Past Existence - Charlotte White nee Smyth - a poem

As regular readers will know, I did a lot of work last year based around the story of Charlotte White (nee Smyth), daughter of Sir George Henry Smyth of Berechurch Hall in Colchester, whose ghost is said to walk the earth in the grounds of the former Berechurch Hall estate.  I wrote a short story about her, which is soon to be published in the first WriteNight anthology.  I spent time working on some art work, with a view to holding an exhibition about her in the future.  In addition to this, I wrote a poem about her, which explores the feelings she might have experienced as a ghost, haunting her former dwelling.  This poem is laid out below.

Charlotte was a well loved lady and researching her life has certainly had an impact on me.  I hope to produce more work about her in the not too distant future.  In the meantime, here is the poem.

My Past Existence
by Annie Bell

Why do you call me the 'Lady in White'?
Why do you act like I give you a fright?
Why do you only see this satin dress?
Can you not see that I look like a mess?

I'm going to tell you - to try to explain
Quite what my dress means: how it speaks of my pain.
This dress - this white dress of satin so fine,
Trimmed with soft swansdown, destined to be mine,
A gift from my husband to forgive me a wrong
But I felt unforgiven, my life and death long.

When I died, trapped right here, it was all I could wear 
My symbolic shackle, far too much to bear.
A symbol of marriage?  Innocense?  Love?
A symbol of purity?  Peace?  Like a dove?
A symbol of betrayal, of evil, of guilt,
Corroding my soul like an acid soaked quilt.

Forgiven, I died in his choice of fine cloth.
Forever I'd wear it - a strange reverse goth.
My hair loose and wild, I felt like a child;
Afraid and alone, unheard and reviled.

Despite his intentions - so sweet and so kind,
Even after so long, it just serves to remind 
Of that grave mistake - my only misdeed
And his well meaning love meant my fate was decreed

Stuck here, alone for all of these years,
The world deaf to me and bound by my fears.
My silvery voice dumb, I walked through the night
And all you could see, was the 'Lady in White'.

Irony, it seems, was my twisted new friend,
As, after my death, my life didn't end.
Trapped in my invisible prison of love;
No way to escape to my place up above.

Despite my good deeds and my Christian faith,
Despite my fine conduct, I'm stuck as a wraith,
Spooking young children and looking a mess,
Defined by this elegant, lead lined dress.

Oh peopleo seek me, who see me, please know;
I'm not what I seem in this ghastly old show.
I am not a scary, wood haunting spook.
I'll never hurt you; if you see me, just look.

You'll just see a lady - a lady who died.
Look closer, you'll see the sadness in my eyes;
The tears held inside me in a chest that can't rise.
Say my name, ask a question and you'll be surprised.

I need you to listen.  I need you to hear.
I need you to help me escape from my fear.
Don't call me that name - the Lady in White.
I'm Charlotte.  I'm Charlotte.  I'm Charlotte White.t

© Annie Bell 2013

For more information on Charlotte, please see my other blog posts about her (below)

Charlotte's Pool 20/09/2012
Charlotte's Pool - Charlotte's Family 19/09/2012
Charlotte Exhibition Preparation - Part 2 29/08/2012
Charlotte Exhibition Preparation - Part 1 16/08/2012
Charlotte's Pool, Colchester 07/08/2012

To purchase a copy of 'Charlotte -The Lady in White' a novel based on the Life of Charlotte White, nee Smyth, please click the link below

https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/704533011/charlotte-the-lady-in-white-by-annie?ref=shop_home_active_1&crt=1