The Crickets Masquerade

The Crickets Masquerade

Within the confines of an evening bleed
The crimson clouds creed
Might rest their eyes upon oh poor humpty
Whose head not yet shattered, clumsy
Has yet to fade from the cover of ‘a Childs tale’
All those who read on beware...

A gleeful prance which signals the trumpets
A mattress squeaks rampant
While feet glide up to and fro
A Childs sweat so rests abrow
Completing the pulse of a parent observing
a triggered nerve delivers the deserving


A delinquent fire soothed not by sattin
Or any seduction of satin
No feet now glide through folds of air
But slip politely in a silken fare
Upon no mantle does sit a specter
Only the ghostly appearance of a dusty lectern

Yet soon a stammer awakes once more
He wonders what for
For an anomalous twitch completely distinct
Is hoping and daring and far from a blink
Yes there definatly was a delectable chirp
And something worth more upon some dark perch

A flash and a peak above the white sheets
The Childs heart bleats
Wailing not, the chirp was far from a dream
Weeping not, the perch was far and unseen
But there it was again heard on its second round
Although far from an obvious sound

Lusty curiosity clothes the child
Desiring with wild
In which each chirp descended
A second chirp was also lended
The room no longer ghostly or bleak
Light shining forth so daring so meek

Dusty lanterns so anxiously lit
Lighting each candle wick
In which each curtain of velvet violet and blue
So completely carpeting the coming morning due
Creeping behind both sofas and chairs
He searches for villains and their evil lairs

Down and down all corridors are passed
Checked twice each cupboard and cask
The chirp chirp continues quietly
Yet the Childs mission burns violently
Until the final place unchecked became
The sight before the Childs game

A frantic study of the lips of the parents
There was little deterrence
For the chirp chirping continued quietly
And the Childs anger erupted violently
Pillows rasped across their faces
And their own flesh and blood unties its own laces

A miracle far from the likely
The chirping retires politely
The child pursuing the warmth of his bed
Not bothering for the respect of the newly dead
Tucked warm inside, the Childs sleeps slightly
Yet the chirping soon starts quietly again