VISITOR IN THE NIGHT...

On the wall across from the foot of my bed hangs an AIRFIX skeleton.  I purchased it in the early '90s as a replacement for several of the same model I'd owned (at different times) as a child.  I'd love to be able to tell you that it inspired the following poem (which I wrote in 1980) because it would make a great anecdote to be able to say that the skeleton at the foot of my bed gave me the idea of Death being ever present, but, alas, it had nothing to do with it, apt as it would be to claim otherwise.

Most of the poem came to me unbidden in the early hours of that '80s morning (I think it was October - I have a note of it somewhere, but it's not to hand at the moment), and, unable to sleep, I grabbed a pen and paper and jotted it down as it came to me.  Later, I added some bridging lines and polished it up into its present form, but, truth to tell, I'm still not entirely happy with it.  One day I must sit down and apply myself to giving it a further polish, but in the meantime I present it as it is for your esteemed consideration.  Are you all sitting comfortably?  Good, then I'll begin.

******          

     Reader dear, if you will hearken, a hellish tale I shall relate;
        each and ev'ry word consider, for in their story lies my fate.
        One night while vainly seeking sleep, I heard a sound within my room,
        and slowly opening my eyes, I pierced the near-Stygian gloom.

        A fearful sight confronted me, O reader how can I convey
        the scene that met my startled eyes, a scene that haunts me to this day?
        A figure draped in black I saw, it lurked mere inches from my bed;
        a vision from the vaults of hell - my quaking heart was filled with dread!

        I lay quite still, no sound I made, though all the while I longed to scream -
        but I held back my cries of fear with hope 'twas all an idle dream.
        And then with stealth I pinched myself, with fervent pray'r my head would clear,
        but, alas, 'twas no vain fancy - the image did not disappear.

        I heard it moving closer then, though soft and muffled was its tread,
        a face peered out from 'neath its hood - a ghastly pale skeletal head!
        I watched the fiend loom over me, my body froze, my limbs grew numb.
        It bent its skull towards my face - I thought my final hour had come.

        And then it spoke - O saints above, I felt its fetid icy breath!
        The words it said near stopped my heart - "Tremble mortal, for I am Death!"
        And then my clouded head did spin, for he stretched out his evil claw,
        but something seemed to hold it back - his gnarled talon did withdraw.

        And as I gazed into his eyes, they glitter'd with intense regret;
        and then he spoke and I knew why - he said "Your time has not come yet.
        But know you this, although unseen, I stand forever at your side -
        and when at last your time does come, there is no place where you can hide!

        So now I leave you with these words" - he seemed to fade into the black -
        "You have respite, for now at least, but live in fear for I'll be back!"
        And with those words the fiend was gone, though only from my human sight,
        for he, in truth, yet lingers near - in spirit, ev'ry day and night.

        And since that dreadful hour I fear the chimes that bid me to my bed,
        for on some unknown day to come, the rising sun shall find me dead.
        And so I sit here while time flies until the day of Death's return,
        when he shall come to claim his prize - O reader dear, the tale is done! 

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