The Beast Poem by Thomas Vaughan Jones

The beast is upon us,
I hear him outside
His fumbling claws at the gate
The hinges creak open,
now he’s in the drive
In fearful repression I wait

The beast is much nearer,
he’s at the front door
He’s forced it and opened it wide
Then as the door closes,
I listen for more
Oh God! I’m afraid, he’s inside

The beast is so close now,
I hear his deep sighs
I’m sobbing and saying my prayers
I clasp both my hands
and I shut tight my eyes
I know that he’s climbing the stairs

Oh pray for this sinner,
for I’ll soon be dead
Oh Lord! Save my soul if you can
He’s entered the bedroom
and fell on my bed............

..........Good God! It’s my drunken old man.