Table Tapping

Some once called him a Grand Old Man,

Others called him a slime,

You couldn’t get a consensus that

Was even, all the time,

For some kow-towed to his money, while

Others fell by his sword,

His life was overall sunny, while

His victims quailed at his word.

 

He lorded it over his children,

He ruled their kids with ease,

A sullen look from beneath his brow

Would bring them to their knees,

His will was forever changing

As solicitors came and went,

One day he’d offer a mansion,

And another day, a tent.

 

When he finally died he was stony broke

And they wondered where it went,

He’d always been abstemious

But the money had been spent.

He left all their lives in ruins with

Their expectations gone,

A couple of ramshackle houses were

The only things they won.

 

There wasn’t the money to bury him

So they left him where he sat,

Up at the head of the table in

His black, beribboned hat,

He glared at them as he’d glared in life

One hand on the table-top,

Where he used to tap with his finger

As if it would never stop.

 

Tap-tap-tap on the table-top,

Tap-tap-tap it went,

His eyes bored into the back of your head

As if to say - Repent!

And people scurried, this way and that

To divine what the tartar meant,

The grim old man in his black top hat

Who ruled to their detriment.

 

They left him sat and they locked the door

Didn’t go back for a year,

Til the eldest, saying ‘let’s know for sure,’

Returned with a tinge of fear.

‘He might have stocks in his waistband there

Or shares hid under his shirt,

Or cash stuffed in his beribboned hat -

He treated us all like dirt!’

 

He ventured into the dining room

Where the grim old man still sat,

His eyes a-glare in the year long gloom

From under the brim of his hat.

But as the eldest approached him there

The finger began to tap,

A steady rap with a note of doom

That would curdle blood to sap.

 

So Toby dived to the tinder box

And he leapt up with the axe,

His face as pale as a ghostly tale

But determined to attack.

He raised the axe and he let it fall

Severed the finger there,

It skittered across the table top

As the old man fell from his chair.

 

The stocks were stuffed in the old man’s hat

The shares were stuffed in his sleeve,

And so much cash in his waistband that

They said, you wouldn’t believe.

But still he’s locked in that grey old house

For they found it wouldn’t stop,

That severed finger that skittered there

Still taps on the table-top!

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[ANTO]

Over here when we speak of a tap it means to borrow money - 'Can you lend me a tap' they say - the constant borrowers are called tappers lol
i doubt they'd want this kind of tap though - the tappers round here would run a mile
Heck so would I :DD
Classic DLP - where do you keep your stocks by the way - in your shoes I spose

[Marie]

Interesting. Here we say "all tapped out" to mean not having any money. Which leads right into borrowing, or a "tap," I suppose.

[ANTO]

Yeah Marie - its very similar - :))

[Marie]

I'm glad his children found the money. But apparently he wasn't giving it up easily. A whole story story could be constructed around this--something Poe might do.

[Tate Morgan]

Such is the case with massive amounts It drives people to the worst in their character

[MomzillaNC]

He held them gripped in fear when he was alive and struck fear in their hearts even after he'd gone. Frankly, I wouldn't want his money. I personally turned my back on my own inheritance to be free of all web of "ties that bind." I may be dirt poor, but, I my loyalties stand unassailable because they are not tainted by greed. If that old man was my relative, he'd have held no fears for me. Greed kept them holding on and crawling back; greed left him hated and resented; and, it left them locked forever in their fear.

NOTES: I like the way the entire poem flows to that "tap, tap, tap" rhythm.

[Barbz]

For those of you table tappers out there, a lesson here is learned. Don't rule the roost, for in the end, they'll wonder what you've earned. There's more to fingers that are tapped, on each hand there are five, or more that doubt your motives, while you are still alive. You left them with no closure', it was not quite a wrap, they took their "owes" , resent still flows.........and so does Tap, Tap, Tap!! Barbz