Life in degrees is a personal poetry and occasional short story blog .
Life is seen in many different ways or degrees and with the help of poetry, stories, music and art we may view it from many perspectives.
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Friday, 7 October 2011

Anyone For A Kickabout

Anyone For A Kickabout 

We were off to visit my great,great auntie Jean 
She was old, wrinkly, spindly and mean, 
Because of her big cabaggy ears 
She had a horn made of bone so she could hear 
She'd shout real loud she said to make her self clear
In her rickety rickety old house made of wood 
We played quietly like mice that was understood 
She kept strange things high up on shelves 
An eyeball in a jar and dolls that looked like elves 
From the shelves hung whips of dried up lavender
As far as I know she was never a gardener 

One night when the moon shone and I couldn't rest 
I crept down those creaky stairs quiet as I could, I tried my best 
I  sat on the bottom step and saw with my very own eyes 
The dolls come to life, turned in to their Elfy guise,
They shimmed down the lavender ropes 
                                        
Somehow with the jar aloft they kind of coped
They dance upon the jar top 
And clapped with glee when it went pop 
That staring eye was suddenly kicked out 
The elves went mad and began to shout 
The next I knew they were playing eyeball!
The eye was kicked as they played 
The eyeball rolled and gunge was splayed 
it looked like there had been a slug invasion 
Slime was all over the house on that occasion 
No one team seem to win a game 
But one of the elves became very lame 
All his kin seem suddenly scared 
And shimmed back up the lavender 
It seemed they didn't care! 

Next morning I found I fallen asleep at the bottom of the stairs 
What I saw next, tickle me all over, even my hair !
My  great,great auntie Jean pick up the now still dead elf 
Looked up and counted the others were still on the shelf 
With one flick of her hand the elf melted into her hearing horn
The bit she held it by, the bit that was well worn! 
She search the floor, scoured all about, 
"where's that eyeball gone" she began to shout 
She followed some slime trails around the room 
Then finally she spied it, it had rolled beside her broom

Never was I to return to my great great Auntie Jeans 
But I was never to forget what I swear I had seen 
So beware of old ladies with bits on very high shelves 
For they may need a new team of eyeball playing elves   


17 comments:

  1. Ah, what fantastical things we find lurking in the corners of our peculiar relative's homes. It's too bad the magic seems to fade as we grow up.

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  2. Terrifying! Great rhymes and pictures! (

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  3. haha this is awesome...basements are creepy as they are ...this has an element of fun to it as well...fun rhymes along the way...

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  4. Very fun and seasonal story. Love the lavender ropes the elves used, and for me the best part was 'auntie Jean, old, wrinkly, spindly, and mean' I had a pretty good idea what I was in for with that delightful description and you didn't disappoint!

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  5. nothing is more spooky than seeing your own eyeballs at idnight
    at your aunt Jean's house,

    sharp write.

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  6. love the experiences,
    yet it is normal when one resides in relative's house.

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  7. so,
    what really happening?

    a write that ignite wonders,
    masterful delivery.

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  8. the kin could be scared by some pranks too.

    nice write.

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