The Ever Open Door
My door is always open, so come inside my dear
Sit down by the fireside you've nothing here to fear
Stroke my cat, Beelzebub and have a cup of tea
I see you like my pointed hat, come over here to me
I've jars of things upon the shelf with which I make my brew
I put some of the contents in the drink that I gave to you
I expect by now you're feeling tired and want to have a nap
Rest yourself upon that chair with the cat upon your lap
And I will tell you stories of many days gone by
When this frail old lady was the glint in most boys' eye,
But now those days are long forgot alas and are no more
But I sit and wait you know with an ever open door
Perhaps a one time suitor will be passing down the lane
Maybe a knock,a friendly call, memories to live again
And now if you're quite rested, you must hurry home to tea,
Thank you for the presents that you brought along for me
So now I must get ready as I want to look just right
In case those bygone friends of mine call on Walpurgis night.
Poetry by Toonist
Read 624 times
Editors' choice
Written on 2009-10-26 at 09:24
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