~*~Hey everyone, this isn't the greatest poem ever, but I do like the idea. Anyone have any ideas of how I can make it better?~*~

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What was that tapping sound?

Was it leaves against the window

Or water quenching the ground?

Or was it something worse?

My mind envisions spooks and sprites

A pale horse with reddened eyes

The goblin king in all his might

Back the curtains swish

The window is laid black and bare

A portal to my well-lit study

But to my relief, nothing is there

Or is there something?

A golden shimmer in the rain

A sparkle of fairy dust

And the tapping comes again

I see it now, stronger

And I see pictures in its depths

I open the window glass

And all the screts it has kept

Come pouring in

It is a story, and epic tale

The pictures roll out of the dust

And become heroes, hearty and hale

Golden in the candlelight

They begin to act their saga out

I dash for paper and my pen

My neck is sore as I turn about

Gawking at the characters

Who have invaded my room

Daylight comes, and they fade

All too soon

But I have written reams this night

As attested by my paper-cut and ink-stained hand

What a wonderful yarn I've witnessed!

Of maidens, knights, and shifting sand

My eyelids droop, my bed is calling

And I let sleep happen

For I want to be fresh and ready, if

Tomorrow night, a story comes a-tappin'.