A good night story for naughty children.
He lives in the pipes that go bump in the night
in the attic or cellar his bed.
His belly’s much bigger than his eyes
which are always glowing red.
Some say he’s hairier than an ape,
some say he’s bald as a coot.
Some say he has claws which are three inches long
and fangs to the tip of his snoot.
When he’s hungry he’ll be in the washing machine
a solit’ry sock is his quarry.
If he hears you he’ll show you a clean pair of heels
or hide in the dirty laundry.
To while away the long, long hours,
he collects all the ball-point pens;
keys an’ spectacles he likes to hide,
every now and then.
Some say he’s as fast as a lightning strike
and whiter than alabaster!
But everyone knows, where their missing socks go,
it’s that infamous, greedy
He ventures forth, big and bold,
And it’s been said, inside a child’s head
when they start to dream.
Now close your eyes and strain your ears
and I’ll whisper a well kept secret.
The sock monster, you see, could be here
but don’t you worry nor fret.
Hairy or bald? Long claws and fangs?
Nobody knows for certain.
Except a creature, quiet and still,
lickin’ (‘is) lips behind the curtain.
He’ll bide his time, till all is hushed,
and parents have closed the door.
He may tickle your feet as you quietly sleep,
but sometimes he’ll let out a ROAR!
©30.3.2016 Andrew Robert Chapman
lickin’ ‘is lips behind the curtain.
Except the sock monster, quiet and still,
and keys and glasses he likes to hide,