The Witching Hour (not a holiday story)😳🥴

It’s almost twelve, see the clock?

Time for goblins, and seers to mock

The hour of all scary things

Midnight is when it all begins.

Not a believer I hear you say

Well that’s fine until the day

You go to bed at nine or ten

Try to sleep but can’t and then

It starts.

A creaking, squeaking, maybe a thump

A dragging, a moaning from the trunk.

You know that old one sits in the hall

I’m sure you won’t be bothered at all

It’s probably only the wind

Surely it’s nothing that’s in

That old thing, it couldn’t be

Might get out of bed and take a look see.

Feet are feeling a bit unsteady

Round the corner thinking I’m ready

The trunk stands open and hanging out

Is that a hand? Who are you, I shout!

No answer but it seems to rise

I need to go back to bed, be wise

It’s only a dream I think to myself

As the clock chimes twelve times from the shelf

I run back to bed, hide in my room

Only a nightmare, not a figure of doom.

The clock stops striking the bell

It seems the creature went back to hell.

Tomorrow that trunk is leaving this abode

And the clock–I want one with a digital mode.

6 thoughts on “The Witching Hour (not a holiday story)😳🥴

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