Pumpkin

Once upon a midnight weary, while I pondered tired and leery,
O'er thots of haints and long forgotten stories of yore,
While I stood there, teeth still clacking, bones still shaking, knuckles cracking,
As some thing kept on bumping, bumping on my outer door.
"Must be my imagination," I quavered, "bumping on my outer door.
Please make it that, and nothing more."

Long I stood there, knees still quivering, hair on end, skin still shivering,
Thinking thoughts I knew were true, of old ghosts from long before
Though my solace was unspoken, and the silence no longer broken,
I hoped the sound had been the wind, gone away, here no more.
But my mind could not be duped, something was there, just before!
I knew this, and nothing more.

On I flipped the ceiling light, just in time to catch the flight,
Against the window's wiry screen, a white and wooly beast did pour,
Like an earth bound manta ray, howling wild in disarray,
Claws engorged with desperate rage, clinging claws, sharp and sore.
Horrid yowl and yawning maw, on my screen, outside my door
T’was the cat, and nothing more.