At the Door

A loud knock came at the door And perhaps if I had answered, It would have sounded no more. But foolishly I let it ring And left the stranger standing At the door It came again, the persistent tap Of someone knocking on the door With a temperate rap Again I left it and ignored it And left the stranger standing At the door When a third time it rang And at last I heeded the sound And I opened the door and let it hang For on my doorstep sat a black-cloaked man Holding my life in his skeletal hand At the door I spoke thus to him, the man “What brings you to my abode? I bid you answer if you can.” Smiled he grimly and answered truly “I came thrice knocking and you left me At the door” As thus he charged me with my crime I was muted and stood pale He spoke again; “It is not your time” And I answered and asked once more “Why have you come knocking At the door?” He stood and threw his cloak away And his skull-like visage caught the light He said “I have come to collect the pay.” I trembled and finally dared to query “What requital brings you to stand before me At the door?” Again he patiently answered me “You made a bargain and now I collect. You have an hour, for I have some leniency. But when that ends, you will see me again. And I will not be patient, nor will I stand At the door!” And the stranger was gone, leaving no trace That he had ever been there at all. But I knew that I had seen that face, And that I had seen it before, And I didn’t want it there again, At the door. Suddenly bitter dread filled my heart As I remembered the bargain I’d made And that I must fulfill my part. Weeping, I called my daughter from bed. And regretted making a deal with the man At the door. I said my goodbyes to my beloved daughter And waited for the hour to end I didn’t wish for it to end in slaughter So I told no one else of the bargain I made With the stranger who was again knocking At the door He knocked and my girl ran to answer Before I could cry out a warning The man had seized and taken her And I was alone in the quiet house Cursing my life and the man who had once stood At the door ©Copyright 2015. All rights reserved.