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Apr
5
Tongue
What Noise?

One night on my knees
As I prayed to Sid Vicious
An eerie noise from outside
I did suddenly hear
It was immediately apparent
That it was not my goat
For I never have and do not
Own one you see

With a flashlight in hand
I descended the stairs
In a bid to unmask
The dodgy sound in the air
When I suddenly realised
Although quite unprepared
That I live in a basement!
Where did these stairs come from?
And why was I up them?

But the noise once again
Distracted me so
And so to it with care
I started to head
Only to discover
It was my goat drilling holes
But hang on…I don’t own one!

By

Samantha Jayne Rees
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