The Noise

Late I sit writing at my bedroom chamber.
No sound but the scratching pen.
My mind is focused on my read.
Until a noise startles me.

I look around to see what it could be.
Hoping that my mind had not deceived me.
Again came the noise louder than before.
It sounded like a knock at the door.

I push away from my chair.
To walk to the door,
My voice trying to find its chord.
“I am sorry I did not hear you knocking at my door.”

To the door I reach and open it wide.
I peer out into the darkness within.
No one is there my mind had deceived me.
I close the door and let it be, back to my work says me.

Back I sit in my bedroom chamber, I.
Until again a noise my ears defy.
I look around to see if it can be found.
But no source in the room did I find.

Out loud I cry, “Where are you noise?
Please come out I implore.”
I look around again,
Finding that the noise was from within.

Down on the floor in a corner not so bare.
I found the noise that startled me there.
For lying on the wooden floor there was
Only my dog‘s rapping on the floor.

She was sleeping peacefully in dreaming world
That her tail was thumping on the floor.
Dreaming of happiness was what she had
So content was to let her be.

I looked at her with content on her face.
Backing off to give her space.
For I did not want to stir her awake,
I went back to what was at my place.

So again I sit writing at my bedroom chamber.
No sound but the scratching pen.
My mind is focused on my read.
No noise now to startle me.

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