Bump In The Night

Peace and quiet, still is the night.
Stars are out, the feeling is right.

Time to be creative, alone at home.
No one to disturb me, not even my phone.

Twelve o'clock it's witching hour, someone is at my door.
She looks like a hag, I walked silently on the floor.

She finally went away, I am a superstitious one,
To meet a witch on the prowl, would not be fun.

Back to tranquility, I hear the insects outside.
I do not fear the stranger, I can swallow my pride.

If a mystic wants to meet me, she will do it with tact.
She would be wise not to disturb me, that is a fact.

I have nothing against mystics, they are people too.
Since I do not know any, I do not know who.

Enough about them, it's all said and done.
Another poem is finished, it was a true form of fun.