The Goblin Under the Stair
When I was seven, or maybe eight
My father left when my mother died,
He said he'd take me when he came back,
He said he would, but my father lied!
I went to live in the Bailiwick
Of Nether Dearth, in a Castle there,
And every night as the clock did tick
I heard the Goblin, under the stair.
He'd rasp his nails on the old stone wall
And make the stairs in the passage creak,
And then he'd let out a tiny moan
While I lay trembling under the sheet!
I'd gone to live with a maiden Aunt
Who kept a dwarf as a servant there,
His name was Hob, and he'd say: ‘I can't! '
Whatever we asked; ‘It's just not fair! '
‘It wasn't fair' that he chopped the wood
To feed the fire in the ancient hall,
‘It wasn't fair' that he made the tea
Whenever my Aunt put on her shawl!
‘I'm much too small for the heavy jobs, '
He'd say, and handed the axe to me,
Then wandered down to the orchard, where
He'd sit in the shade of an apple tree.
‘My Aunt said, ‘God, you're a lazy Hob,
Get back to work or you're gone from here! '
He'd pull a face, and he'd try to sob,
But she'd go in, and she'd pack his gear!
One day I mentioned the Goblin there,
He shook all over, his face was white,
‘You lie! There isn't a Goblin here! '
‘I think you're wrong - but I hope you're right! '
‘He comes at night when the moon is dim
And sits right under the castle stair,
Then moans and mutters, he sounds quite grim,
And sometimes shrieks as he claws the air! '
‘I've heard him tearing that tapestry,
The one that hangs in the cobweb room,
The one that no-one's supposed to see,
It's always shuttered, and filled with gloom.'
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poem by David Lewis Paget
Added by Poetry Lover
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