PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The Long Days Chore  part 1

Chris Mumford

I had just settled in from the long day’s chore,

When a rapping came at the cellars door;

No one was expected at this late hour I’m sure,

Be gone of me I beg you, I must implore;

But still a rapping came from my cellars door,

And this time much louder than it had been before;

Whoever this is I began to abhor,

I yelled “just leave me alone or there’ll be hell to pay for”;

All of the sudden the rapping had stopped,

I sank into bed, my heart quickly dropped;

Where has he gone, and where could he be,

And wherever he is, have is eyes fallen on me?;

A maddening thought had entered my head,

What if this man wishes me dead;

O’ this night I dare not fall asleep,

To give him free reign of my home to creep;

Slinking about in the cover of night,

Hidden from me, hidden from sight;

I can’t take these thoughts for a moment more,

Compose myself and make for the door;

I hear my hearts thumping, pitter-patter,

Clanking and clicking, my teeth all a-chatter;

My hand finally reaching the door,

Now the infernal rapping once more!;

I shrieked out a shout,

That he had heard no doubt;

My heart beating out of my chest,

“What’s all this rapping about!”;

I decided that I could take no more,

Slowly and steadily open the door;

Cracking and creaking as if I were sneaking,

Arouse all my senses, my perception is peaking;

O’ it was more than I could bear,

Open the door and no one was there;

Is this all a trick?,

Who about these parts would dare?;

Anger filled me to my core,

I came in in a fit and slammed shut the door;

And laid myself back into my bed,

When a rapping came at the cellars door;

Fear has all but left me,

I rush to the knob and gently;

Open the cellar door,

Once again he is there no more;

In a fit of rage I declare, a most crazed outpour,

“The next who raps upon my door, may they live no more!”;

Yet once again I make for my bed…

Time to lie, my heads-grown weary,

Exhausted-Lo’ the dark nights-dreary;

Does he slink, does he creep,

Still I do not dare fall asleep;

For if my intruder does grow near,

I fear my fate if I do not hear;

I awaken in shock and fall to the floor,

When a rapping came at the cellars door;

In a cloud of confusion,

I fell into illusion;

No longer myself,

I’ve succumb to delusion;

As I mentioned a-fore,

If I heard that rapping once more;

I’d see to it myself,

That he lives no more;

To be continued….