Friday, October 24, 2008

i'd do it for you

through a mishmash of horrid dream I hear chains dragging
and a haunting of slippers shuffling the hall,
from under the covers I pop up to think of breakfast
and feel icy cold fright, hear scratching on the wall
is there bread for toast, are there eggs for two?
yes, it’s only four a.m., but, start the coffee, will you?

beware slimy ghost drippings on the stair
don’t get bitten
heading for the kitchen, don’t say I didn’t warn you,
keep your eyes closed until the lights are on
you can feel for the button,
i hope nothing grabs you
don’t be long
you know I’d come along
but I’m a little sleepy

1 comment:

Annie said...

I like the sound and the rhythm of this poem, especially the first two lines, starting with a slightly ominous tone, but leading to a light, humorous poem about breakfast and ghostlings.