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I awoke with a shudder Was that the sound of thunder? I listened, and heard a faint smash Then it was followed by a loud crash I knew, through the down stairs window it came Was this a burgalar coming, all the same? I got out of bed with a frown And adorned my blue dressing gown From under my bed, just near the mat I reached, and found my cricket bat I would have to go and brave this rogue instead And then I would bash him on the head Out of my bedroom I went, at a quiet pace Then I tip toed slowly down my stair case Praying I was not going to my doom I reached for the door of my living room Flung it open, and switched on the light There was no way to prepare me for this sight On my carpet there appeared to be a small little imp He was swearing because he had a limp The little thing had hurt himself, when he had fell He hopped on one leg, and threatened me with Hell Told me he was going to curse me with magic But this injured little imp looked so tragic He followed, hobbling, after me into the kitchen Cursing that his leg was now itching He shouted at me, ranting and raving I asked if he wanted a cup of tea, so he started waving He showed me his jaggered teeth in a funny smile I handed him his cup of tea, he blew on it for a while This poor little thing looked so very sad As an evil imp, he really was bad He had wanted to steal my teeth and then run away Because that was one of those games that imps play So I made him a splint, for his injured leg I had made it out of a wooden peg I picked him up and he started to glow And all of a sudden, he fixed my broken window I then made him some buttered toast Because he said he liked eating that the most He was not such a bad little imp in the end He promised to visit again, I was his best friend
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Jun 2, 2010
Jun 2, 2010 at 6:59 PM UTC
The Imp
I awoke with a shudder Was that the sound of thunder? I listened, and heard a faint smash Then it was followed by a loud crash I knew, through the down stairs window it came Was this a burgalar coming, all the same? I got out of bed with a frown And adorned my blue dressing gown From under my bed, just near the mat I reached, and found my cricket bat I would have to go and brave this rogue instead And then I would bash him on the head Out of my bedroom I went, at a quiet pace Then I tip toed slowly down my stair case Praying I was not going to my doom I reached for the door of my living room Flung it open, and switched on the light There was no way to prepare me for this sight On my carpet there appeared to be a small little imp He was swearing because he had a limp The little thing had hurt himself, when he had fell He hopped on one leg, and threatened me with Hell Told me he was going to curse me with magic But this injured little imp looked so tragic He followed, hobbling, after me into the kitchen Cursing that his leg was now itching He shouted at me, ranting and raving I asked if he wanted a cup of tea, so he started waving He showed me his jaggered teeth in a funny smile I handed him his cup of tea, he blew on it for a while This poor little thing looked so very sad As an evil imp, he really was bad He had wanted to steal my teeth and then run away Because that was one of those games that imps play So I made him a splint, for his injured leg I had made it out of a wooden peg I picked him up and he started to glow And all of a sudden, he fixed my broken window I then made him some buttered toast Because he said he liked eating that the most He was not such a bad little imp in the end He promised to visit again, I was his best friend
copyright Chris Smith 2010
Darkpoetsoul
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Jun 2, 2010
Jun 2, 2010 at 6:59 PM UTC
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