The Guest

'Tis was Saturday night but of last,
When the cold fingers of a Mr Mort
Into my thoughts found their way
Soon enough it was his entire person
That over my actions held sway.

"Draw up pen and paper," his voice boomed
Across the labyrinth that is my mind
Scaring all those other pressing jobs
Into recesses, too hard to find.

"Put down on it today's date," he commanded,
"And time. And don't forget your name."
"Full Name," he repeated, lest I do otherwise
"It's for official purposes you know,
Can't have no f****n lies."

"Don't you glare at me, Missy,
Just do as you are told.
Things will be clear soon enough,
Just onto your horses hold."

Seeing my fidgety spirit, his manner
Altered, if only just a tad
With an apologetic smile he began,
"Did I introduce myself? I'm Mr Ality.
Mr. Mort Ality. Call me Mort, you can."

"I wish you'd have called earlier, Mort
And chosen one of the sunnier, happier days."
"I know it's rather sudden Miss,
I do apologise for these are my ways."

"But now that I am here let us,
Get cracking on the matter at hand.
I want you to start recounting
The few of your possessions, earthly
Which joy to you most bring."

"Next, the names of people
Who to you a difference did make."
"Am I writing a will?" I interrupted
"Don't interrupt me, that's your first mistake."

Voice softening, he continued, "How morbid!
A will! At your health and age?
Of course not dear child, a will, no,
We are a list making. Of friends.
To whom you want your love to show."

"And how will I be showing this love?" I inquired
"Mistake number two," came the reply, pat.
"NO more interruptions please.
We are to play a game, stat."

"A game of match-the-columns if you will.
Against all those names you've listed
You'll match a possession of yours dearest.
For them to remember you by. Quite different
From a will," he added on seeing my unrest.

"I don't have treasures nor money,
No family heirlooms, no estate."
"Unnecessary," he reassured,
"It's just something to which they relate."

Unconvinced and hesitant, I started,
Distributing my possessions, worldly,
"To Trouble I leave memories,
A chestful and more.
To Piggy, eternal peace.

To Bunty and Rusty I leave hugs and kisses,
Enough a lifetime to last.
To Cindy, unending hope,
For her to hold on to fast.

To Maggie and Barty I leave freedom
Theirs forever to taste.
To Chloe and Frankie, spirit,
A beginning awaits.

Lovely Vanessa, here's colour
Spread it on your wings, dear
And you too, Floyd dearest,
'Cos to you, I leave cheer.

Bots, I give to you my wings,
Clipped but mended, instructions too,
Nit gets my magical powers,
For all my incomplete tasks to do.

To the Wise Ones, love and apologies,
To KWERTY, form. And requests galore,
That's the last of them,
I have nothing more."

"Sign at the bottom then
And I'm good to go,
Yes, yes, there,
Thank you. Good Day,"
And Mr Mort was nowhere.

The voices in my head came back to life,
A cacophony, if there ever was one,
Mort Ality's cold air lingered behind
And that wretched piece of paper too
A will it was of course,
Sigh! I had been so blind!

"Come, come, don't be so hard on yourself,"
His mocking voice I heard
I closed my ears, I shut my eyes,
Even that horrible paper I burned."

But Mort's presence I still did feel,
As into the mirror I gazed,
There he was, behind my shoulder
And there in the back of my head.
Enraged, unwilling to be outdone
I did myself surprise
When against Mort Ality, grinning,
My finger I did rise.

P.S. Written in pieces, before and after sunshine, forgive the blotchiness. I hope everyone remembers my menagerie. To those who don't, I'm plain cuckoo I guess.