The Gates Poem by H E Alexander

"Come, walk with me,
come through these iron gates;
step inside, now don't be frightened.
No, he cannot see,
it's not for you that he waits.
Silly, why has your grip so tightened?

"What is it you fear?
Of course it's not alive,
just a face, twisted and blackened, so
wipe away your tear,
the tales are only make believe,
made up just to scare little ones, you know.

"The gates are old,
were built in days of yore
and gnomes and goblins are just myths,
sinister and cold,
but, you've seen them before.
Yes I agree, they do look different in the mist.

"It cannot hurt us,
there is no danger, see?
Okay, I'll go over if you want the proof,
but what a fuss.
It's not like an animal to me;
that's only a flake of paint, not a tooth!

"Look, just a metal gate,
smooth black iron, not fur;
there are no fangs, no horns, nor tentacles.
Oh no, OUCH! too late!
Quick run: it's a vicious cur!
Yes okay, I should have worn my spectacles! "