At The Door Poem by Donald R Wolff JR

I hear a knocking
A knock, knock, knocking
Who can it be
Who's at my door

Go away, was softly spoken
Let me sleep a little more

Yet again, there came that awful knocking
My plea to leave has been ignored
From hence I lay beneath the pillow
With rising anger like none before

The persisting sound of ever knocking
Knocking, Knocking, at my door
Wakes the pleasure of my slumber
Who would wager such a war

As I arose, my fury became a passion
In haste from bed, then to the floor
My tumbling pain was soon forgotten
Still, the knocking at the door

All feeling left, but one desire
With a force to lift me from the floor
My ambition was to greet the stranger
To stop the knocking at the door

Roaring out a yell the door swung open
To the stranger I did warn
A silence came, with no more knocking
I wished the sound I had ignored

From Hell, there stood nature's glory
A rage that offered no escape
Every move became an endless motion
Has death become my only fate

For now the beast, he lay upon me
As I feel my life begin to fade
The warmth of Heaven becomes the morning
A little puppy licks my face

(11/25/2016)