The Thin Place

The borders of the world are pale now,
See how they grow very thin.
Near to us loom other places
Home to things not quite our kin.
What doors to otherwhere may open,
And what may come in?

An impish goblin, bent on mischief?
A Faerie prince from Tír na nóg?
A witch with her familiar daemon,
Ghostly cat or spectral dog?
Baleful and mysterious figures
Creeping through the fog?

Souls that should be long departed;
Wights and wraiths with sorrow crowned;
Boggarts, brownies, keening banshees
Sounding their unearthly sound;
Kobolds, dwarves, and little men
From caverns underground.

Stay within your homely dwelling!
Do not depart, nor take your leave!
Pull the blinds and bar the door ‘gainst
Things of which you daren’t conceive!
Unless you want to see what visits
On All Hallows’ Eve.

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