The child slept and mum and dad snored,

While Sparky cowered behind the living room door.

When down the chimney came old Nick Claws,

Crushing some coal under his paws

 

The Yule log was burning to keep him out

Fire against the monster of night’s doubt

But the flame is stifled, all light has gone

No protection is left against what is wrong.

 

Old Nick Claws stands in front of their stockings

The face of a wretch with a smile that is mocking

His cloak is all dirty and bloody and red

On his back is a sack filled with souls of the dead

 

Poor Sparky is whimpering and himself he has peed

Wishing the monster on the stairs would just leave

But he doesn’t, he climbs, one step at a time

In the witching hour of the carriage clock’s chime.

 

The family won’t stir, not even at all

Deep in the slumber, not aware of the pawl

Awaiting if they should fail to wake

Because old Nick Claws their souls he will take.

 

A talon so sharp grasps the door knob and turns

In the little one’s dream the Yule log flares and it burns

She senses the danger, she must try to wake

For if she does not her life he will take.

The child comes to with a blood curdling scream

Thank goodness it was all just a Christmas Eve dream.

*

Check out Daniel Soule‘s fiction below:

The Switch

Little Man o’ War