My Tin Soldiers

It was a raindrop symphony
Performed on roof shingles,
Accompanied by thunder
And sweet wind chime jingles.

Plagued by monsters behind
Tip-tapping tree fingers,
I fled from my nightmares
Where the real beast lingers.

I ran to my toy chest that
Lay off in the distance
And sought the tin soldiers'
Defense and assistance.

With their tin hands and rifles
They fought off the noises;
The tip-tapping and splish-splashing
And whispering voices.

Battling on the windowsill,
I bundled up with a sigh,
So glad my tin soldiers
Are much braver than I.