The Tapping
A night-time rhyme of terror
It starts as a tap
On my window one night.
But when I go check,
There’s nothing in sight.
For most nights it taps,
And sometimes a scratch,
But whatever the sound,
I cherish the latch.
And so this goes on,
For most summer nights,
But then it stops briefly,
Before I see lights.
Two spots that float high
By the churchyard wall,
As bright as a fire,
And part of a skull.
So I hide under sheets,
Before tapping begins.
My terror then horror,
When a pane falls in.
The window creaks open,
My heart pounding fast,
And threatens to burst
When I hear a dry rasp.
I feel something reach
A claw out to me,
Before my folks shout
And make the Thing flee.
A year goes by
And now we’re elsewhere.
But my window stays locked,
In case something’s out there.
© Emlyn Boyle 2024
This poem was inspired by the illustration above, which I had made last October, (for a yearly, online Halloween art challenge). The picture itself was inspired by the legend of the Croglin Grange Vampire, a topic that I’ve covered here before. Thanks for reading.
