“Night Visitor,” Friend, Sept. 1971, 36
Last night while I lay snug in bed,
Someone was out on the lawn,
Whispering soft to the old oak tree,
Telling secrets until almost dawn.
Somebody rattled my windowpane
And howled down the chimney flue.
Someone tossed leaves all over the yard,
And scattered the rose petals, too.
Somebody tinkled Mom’s glass wind chimes
And rustled around the house.
Then somebody left as quietly
As a velvet-pawed little mouse.