Miss Maid

By: Raul Montano Alvarado

The valor mansion, of soul & heart

Lying in the countryside, so far apart

The adobe so old, and its story so deep

As the stars that twinkle in our restless sleep

But among the plentiful halls and doors

Is a person whom I most adore

The maid of the mansion

The one I observe with oh so passion

At the winter’s ball

Where the instruments sing and melancholy falls

With the pastry sprinkles and the bell’s jingle

She stays in the study, not wanting to mingle

Her silky dress of black and white

Shimmering under the bright, sparkling light

A feather duster, her only friend

In a sea of acquaintances that does not end

She knows more of the paintings whose faces hang on the walls

Than of those whose faces enter each and every ball

As the night marches on

With royals and philosophers chatting along

The beginning of the lover’s ballad, the mansion starts to dance

However, she stares with a somber look, giving the night a passing glance

I’ve been told the story by Sir Edward Hart

The lord and caretaker of the mansion’s soul and heart

The story that he wanted me to know

The story of the little girl with the red ribboned bow

Many moons ago, when I have yet grown

In times so similar, yet different from our own

Sir Hart, but then just the heir

Heard the news of a tiny girl with dark ruffled hair

Found in the river on a cold autumn night

Orphaned and trembling, full of fright

In the sense of empathy and what is right

He took her in on that well-fated night

Interested in books and in old Shakespearean sonnets

She took on the role in the dresses and maid bonnets

As called by Lady Mary Hart, she was as loud as a tiny mouse

Not making a sound when fulfilling duties in this grand house

She had not many friends, nor was she close to any souls

For her mind too shy, her past as dark as bonfire’s coals

As the ballad waltzes along, the gala at its peak

I know I had to save the girl devoured by meek

From the kitchen, I take a seat

Across from her, washing a gossamer sheet

We started our initial meeting

Her voice, soft and quiet, when saying her greeting

I knew how to make this better

Mentioning the book The Scarlet Letter

Eyes open to such a sight

Who knew her tiny grin could have such strong might?

My mind, in such a prance

Invited her to join me in the dance

The guest, the royals, and the band

Watched in awe as I held the shy maid’s hand

Our waltz in the round

More valuable than any jewel or golden crown

For in the moment in which I commenced

Was able to soften the young maid’s diffidence.

9.11.2025