Not a creature was stirring, not even a flea.
The fireflies buzzed around houses with flare,
In hopes that the Grim Reaper soon wouldn’t be there.
Little Delilah all nestled and snug in her bed,
While visions of a bloody knife circled her head.
Mamma in her red scarf and dad in his,
Had just been sliced by a razor sharp knife.
When outside the house arose such a clamour,
Delilah sprang from her bed to hide from the slasher.
Scarlet flowed from around the familiar bed,
Giving way to a flood of crimson and red.
When what to her fearful eyes should appear,
But evil encarnate with a blood tipped dagger.
Shifting and searching not willing to leave,
A little author humor
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