Chris Mumford

Chris Mumford Poems

The Long Days Chore part 1
Chris Mumford

I had just settled in from the long day’s chore,
...

Chris Mumford Biography

Full time student in the Philadelphia area.)

The Best Poem Of Chris Mumford

The Long Days Chore Part 1

The Long Days Chore part 1
Chris Mumford

I had just settled in from the long day’s chore,
When a rapping came at the cellars door;
No one was expected at this late hour I’m sure,
Be gone of me I beg you, I must implore;

But still a rapping came from my cellars door,
And this time much louder than it had been before;
Whoever this is I began to abhor,
I yelled “just leave me alone or there’ll be hell to pay for”;

All of the sudden the rapping had stopped,
I sank into bed, my heart quickly dropped;
Where has he gone, and where could he be,
And wherever he is, have is eyes fallen on me? ;

A maddening thought had entered my head,
What if this man wishes me dead;
O’ this night I dare not fall asleep,
To give him free reign of my home to creep;

Slinking about in the cover of night,
Hidden from me, hidden from sight;

I can’t take these thoughts for a moment more,
Compose myself and make for the door;

I hear my hearts thumping, pitter-patter,
Clanking and clicking, my teeth all a-chatter;
My hand finally reaching the door,
Now the infernal rapping once more! ;

I shrieked out a shout,
That he had heard no doubt;
My heart beating out of my chest,
“What’s all this rapping about! ”;

I decided that I could take no more,
Slowly and steadily open the door;
Cracking and creaking as if I were sneaking,
Arouse all my senses, my perception is peaking;

O’ it was more than I could bear,
Open the door and no one was there;
Is this all a trick? ,
Who about these parts would dare? ;

Anger filled me to my core,
I came in in a fit and slammed shut the door;
And laid myself back into my bed,
When a rapping came at the cellars door;

Fear has all but left me,
I rush to the knob and gently;
Open the cellar door,
Once again he is there no more;

In a fit of rage I declare, a most crazed outpour,
“The next who raps upon my door, may they live no more! ”;

Yet once again I make for my bed…

Time to lie, my heads-grown weary,
Exhausted-Lo’ the dark nights-dreary;

Does he slink, does he creep,
Still I do not dare fall asleep;

For if my intruder does grow near,
I fear my fate if I do not hear;

I awaken in shock and fall to the floor,
When a rapping came at the cellars door;

In a cloud of confusion,
I fell into illusion;
No longer myself,
I’ve succumb to delusion;

As I mentioned a-fore,
If I heard that rapping once more;
I’d see to it myself,
That he lives no more;

To be continued….

Chris Mumford Comments

Close
Error Success