There are goblins outside,
They sit and stare.
They glare through the windows,
Mock me from the garden,
And leave the greasy imprints of wrinkled noses on the glass.
I know all their names;
Embarrassment dances on the lawn,
Fear hides in the bushes,
Despair dangles from the washing line,
Loneliness sit by himself in a flowerpot, weeping.
There comes a time when you realise
You can't let the goblins keep you inside,
Isolated from the world.
So, I open the door,
And set the cat on them.