Knot Mine - Part 3

Karen approaches the steps to her grandmother's house,
Taking one at a time like a clean garden louse,
And as she makes time, moving slow to the door like a cat,
Behind the windows of the hallway a light arrives just like that,
"Hello? she whispers in fainted moved sighs,
"Hello yourself! says the voice very high,
"I don't like being scared says Karen out loud,
"And I don't like trespassers near my cloud.
"Trespasser? Where? You truly are mistaken!
"Mistaken? Mistaken?!?! You must be kidding or faking?
"Why must I be one or all of those things?
"Well look just above you and count my cloud rings.
Karen looks up with a startled high squealing jolt,
Surely above her are small clouds held up by nothing, not bolts,
"What is this? I'm scared! Karen tries to wave them off,
But the clouds just hang there, laugh, bleat and scoff,
Suddenly someone appears behind the windows of light,
And the clouds disappear taking with them their fright,
"Nanny? Nanny? Karen appeals to the air,
"Please tell me there is someone, someone just right there!
"Karen is that you? the grandmother speaks in a turn,
"Yes it's me Nanny! I'm so cold I could burn.
"Then open the door child and let yourself in.
"It's been open all this time?
"Yes it is, not all is a sin.
So the door swings open and the rush of warm air collides,
With the damp receding cool air and the world that is wide,
Karen tramps up to the first floor still fearful of the cloud,
But looking around there is nothing but grandmother's shroud,
Karen catches just glimpses of it as it trails round the halls corners,
As if she is not chasing her grandmother but the clothes that adorn her,
"Wait for me Nanny! Karen shouts,
And into the darkness the seven year olds feet do so clout,
Feeling for the light switch or the candles of grey,
"No lights this evening Karen, it's almost new day.
"But I haven't been to bed yet, to rest these tired eyes.
"New day is dawning dear, no room for your lies.
Karen fears it best to be silent,
Best to play along,
No need to be violent,
Just listen to grandmother's song,
It parts from her lips like a grand tune of old,
The woman is wiser and free of such mould,
As this music hangs from her sweet dear lips,
In her day and age the body would follow the hips,
But now she is wrecked with the age and the calm,
The chapping of her lips eased with the applying of balm,
The new day is dawning, the light fills the room,
That cloud is far away now with its fears and its gloom.