Cockroach CastleA Poem by David Lewis PagetThere’s a scurrying sound of something, burrowing, Down in the depths of the dungeons, hurrying, Skittering, pittering-pattering, scattering When there’s a footstep, hear them chattering: ‘Here come the lords, and here comes the vassal, Tripping their way through Cockroach Castle.’
Here come the ladies, all in their finery Tripping and sipping the wine from the winery, Trailing their silks, their satins and bustling, Up in the ballroom, while the rustling Army beneath the sounds of their razzle Is down in the depths of Cockroach Castle.
Spilling their millions up in the glooming Out from the flagstones, terror is looming, Up on the awnings, hung from the ceiling Under the swish of the skirts they’re stealing, Dropping in hair, and burrowing faster, Cockroach Castle is set for disaster.
Suddenly all of the room is screaming Flapping of hands, the roaches are teeming, Myriad hordes in the Carbonara, Candles are tipped from the candelabra, Choking smoke from the candles guttered, Flames leap up from the ones that stuttered.
Clothing and flags and the awnings razing Silks and satins flare up, and blazing, Roaches in eyes and ears, they’re rasping Clogging their throats, to leave them gasping, There isn’t a lady or lord, or vassal To come out alive from Cockroach Castle!
David Lewis Paget © 2014 David Lewis PagetFeatured Review
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