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Footsteps Outside My Door

by Barry Clopton Lanier (Age: 61)
copyright 10-21-2004

Age Rating: 16 +

I hear him,
Just outside my door.
While I am sleeping,
He's slowly creeping;
So I get on the floor.
And this is my house,
Has he come for my silver?
Or perchance maybe my gold?
Is this what he's about?

He still crawls and he slithers,
What is his mission?
He only continues,
Assuming my permission.
I shout,"Go away",
This grown man, crying in fear.
Maybe he's here to steal,
My now, and yesteryears.

Profusely sweating, and weary,
I sank into a trance-like sleep.
Reconciled to my fate,
And my bitter defeat.
But the new day spawned brilliant light,
And I awoke, nothing missed.
I guess he slithered back,
To his eternal abyss.

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        11-26-2004     Irina Guschina        

So lovely to read and to think...
Thanks for sharing!
With love,

        10-22-2004     Lyle Berry        

Great story, rhyme and rhythm...and a mystery to puzzle the reader...always intriguing!

Great Stuff, Barry.

Best Regards,

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