A tap-tap-ratter tap-tap, oh dear shiver me timbers,
there’s something banging on my windows, and the fact that I am ten stories high
makes me wonder who’s passing by.
I can’t say that I am not a little worried
and afraid, afraid to raise my head above the pillow,
I am so scared to see what I might see
a-waiting in the darkness for me.
I’ve seen those films with scary scenes,
but that really isn’t my reality and a werewolf being up so high
is something that I do not buy.
It can’t be a window cleaner up at night
in a bosun`s chair in full flight,
it can’t be a maiden with long blonde hair
or a fickle bird with time to spare.
It makes me wonder if I should open my eyes,
and see what’s a tapping just outside
you never know it could a big surprise
it could be an attempted suicide.
Or someone with a negative pursuit,
who may have thrown themselves off the roof;
indeed it could be someone on my ledge,
who really should be tucked up in bed.
Should I save this perfect stranger,
from his or her element of danger?
Or maybe I should let them fall,
for that’s what they wanted after all.
With eyes still closed in trepidation, and tired of all this fearful speculation,
I am going be brave and look outside, and see what it is that makes me hide.
And so out of bed I brave the scene,
oh my little chickadee, it’s just the branches of a tree,
a-blowing in its reverie.
There might be a moral here my friends,
if you have one please do send, please send me something meaningful
and perhaps I won’t feel such a fool…
