It was a rainy day,

The water rolling down the hill.

I slipped, fell, and cussed along the way,

To keep my mind off the dreadful winter chill

I remembered the morning, when I woke up with a frown,

after hearing the telephone drone,

I got up, put on my dressing gown

And hastened towards the phone.

The daughter was ill, the father said

I made a gruff reply

And looked longingly at my bacon and bread,

as I put on my coat and tie.

A clap of thunder boomed across the sky,

and brought  me back into the present.

The clouds turned black  and covered the sky,

the view was not at all pleasant.

Never had such a storm happened

like the one which was looming above us now.

It looked as if Satan himself was preparing a march,

along with his entire army in tow.

At last, I reached the house

Which was on the very top of the hill,

And for some reason I felt warm,

and quite unaffected from the winter chill.

I knocked twice , and just then He

launched his first platoon.

The maid opened the door; clearly relieved,

and ushered me into a room.

I took in the scene,  a velvet bed

with people all around.

And on the bed lied the daughter,

in sleep quite profound.