A Moor's Tale

by Vanessa Walters, our writer in residence

Inspired by the bust of ‘A Moor’ at Kensington Palace.

Children often crowd around me with pale faces and coloured eyes that glisten like the distant lakes of memory.
They pull and prod my silken robes, the velvet turban on my head, the metal padlock on my neck and wonder at the irony.
Ears pricked for a tale to bellow through these panelled halls. Four hundred years of silent thoughts collected into one great roar.
The story of one caught in a marble spell. To stand as a strange sentinel – my fate my doom, until a time of freedom when my padlock springs open and I race stars like nkukuma, dance dama on cruel waves – my face a mask for the brave.
They call me slave, moor, Dryden’s noble savage, Kings knave - crude names define my status but not my soul, for I am the one who sings forevermore.
I am the one for whom the djembe beats softly on my left, the ngoni crying through my night. For whom the red earth holds its breath, a story is woven into cloth and for whom laughter patiently waits in the happily ever after.

Contact Vanessa

You can contact Vanessa on virtualmuseum@rbkc.gov.uk.