Home Alone

 

Rows of footsteps

not just prints,

Clues to follow

not just hints,

A fun who-done-it

A glass of wine,

A rainy day

A clock that chimes,

A spooky cat

that sits and purrs,

Monograms

marked his and hers,

A sudden knock

upon the door,

What is it now?

Who is it for?

Afraid to move

don’t make a sound,

Hope they leave

not hang around,

Again they knock

and harder still,

Scared to death

you get a chill,

A whisper comes

right through the door,

“I see you there

across the floor.

I got your French Vanilla Dear

Its Husband Ted

who’s knocking here,

Let me come in

before it’s June,

or pass me out

a kitchen spoon."