As a young boy
when not very old
I did enjoy
being told
grisly bedtime stories
by my Mother
the favourite was
none other
than
altho' I was just a nipper
Whitechapel Fishmonger Murders
perpetrated by
Jack the Kipper
Sitting in my old armchair
By the open loggia door
Am I here, or back there
Where I’ve been before?
In the stilllness of the night
Sounds of racing cars
Mingle with the distant light
Of the faded stars
I look out into the dark
Little lights around
Cannot put on me the mark
Of this foreign bound
Its a saddest joke, this land
Not the thing I own
And I clearly understand
This is not my home
Looking at the trees below
See the branches sway
“Soon to bed we have to go”
Is that what you say?
The thunder rolls as the sky flashes bright.
The clouds roll in as the lightning strikes.
The children all tucked in snug in their bed,
as mom walks away, "I'm scared", they all said.
You hear that sound, she says, the thunder rolling,
Do not be afraid, for it's only God and his angels bowling.
But the lightning, they cry, it's just so bright.
Oh that lightning, she says, means God has bowled a strike!
It's a fun game to watch and listen to,
you see God and his angels like to have fun too.
Let's lay here for a while, just listen to the rumble.
I bet when God plays, he is very humble.
Let's count all the strikes when they light up the sky.
Tell me, little ones, who can count that high?
One big rumble, one loud strike,
as rain rolls in and fills the night.
As we lay there counting one strike, two,
the worry passes from each of you.
Slowly they drift off, peacefully rest.
If in your dreams you bowl with God, remember my loves, just give it your best.
A New Etheree Poem Any Theme Poetry Contest
Tania Kitchin
I
Dated
A sweet man
We fell in love
To a drummers beat
All was fine and dandy
Except his love for Brandy
His secret lover tore us up
He loved the liquor, hops, and spirits
And I'd fight her off and send him packing
"Dreamland can be a great place to live." By Poet
I hold three magic rocks, in my hand,
Rolling them over and over and over,
Leaving this reality behind, far behind.
These three rocks are making music like a band,
one is painted with a yellow clover,
if I look closer what will I find?
A magical journey I will take,
before I must awake.
The three magic rocks I found,
were deep underground,
now I am feeling spellbound.
All reality is now gone,
I must wake before dawn.
If I don't,
then I will be on my own.
The magic rock band is playing loud,
under the sky with just one cloud.
The sun is coming up over the foothills,
this night has been filled with thrills.
My dear no more yellow clover tea,
never before bedtime is the magical key.
Last night, I had to shoo me away some sheep.
Having to count 'em was keeping me from falling asleep.
Tonight, I do battle
with a big herd of cattle
that somebody, I’m sure, has prayed the Lord to keep.
The covers were over my head.
It was time for bed.
But still, my fingers twitch a bit.
My computer is brightly lit.
In the corner of my room.
Next to the dustpan and broom.
I was almost ready to sleep.
My computer does a gentle beep.
“When will you write again?
When will you share from within?”
I start to dream a little bit.
But my mind is throwing a fit.
Ideas and plans in the making.
The room starts shaking.
Ok, I suppose I’ll write a poem.
I turn on a song and start to hum.
Then falling asleep too quickly.
Waking up feeling sickly.
Assuming that nothing was completed.
Despite the sleep, feeling depleted.
But I must have written in my sleep.
I see my story and start to weep.
It had been a few months since she passed away.
In fact, three months to this day.
It was the first long sleep in a while.
And finally, a poem came out of my file.
After three months.
I said goodbye more than once.
My computer gathered dust.
While I lost my sense of trust.
I thought it was just a dream…
But it was more it seems…
Your rough tongue cleansing
my finger.
You, the queen of Calico
humdingers!
Those flashing green eyes that
evoke my love each night.
Staring down from your
soft feline height.
How I adore the ways you
make my heart dance.
When you slumber on me, my
heart, settles down to an
opal, moonlit trance...
December 3, 2024
Lying there, serenely, after a warm jasmined bath,
The thought hit me, what if I never again do awake?
Just wide eyed in heaven’s home to joyfully partake!
I awoke to live in eternal love with good and not wrath.
Now existingin a realm with God, not one of mortal men.
To constantly whisper, I am finally here, with joy and Amen!
I set my now young feet on clouds, God’s floor mats!
The joy of having an everlasting young and new body!
In exchange for thie old one that was worn and shoddy.
To be living in His world, a dream come true, so glorious!
Experiencing my breathless, inexpressable ultimate joy,
Of coming to serve my blessed Creator, now I am victorious!
Heaven was never meant to be a continuation of life on earth.
With awe and joy, I was given keys to my own heavenly home.
My only job, to serve Him and with joy, to never roam!
10/21/2024
Our tummy's full and plates licked clean.
Its time to put away your screens.
Bath time first.
Brush your teeth.
Pjs on for bedtime please.
choose a book you like to read, mummy listens carefully.
snuggle in, nice and cosy, laughing at the bedtime story.
The sun has gone, your lamp switched on,
ill softly sing our goodnight song.
i look upon your sleeping face, my love for you is everlong.
What if I, perchance
never do awake?
My solace in eternity
to partake.
Existing in a realm of God,
not of men.
Joy, gratitude, to be His
Forever angel, then.
Heavenly body, golden,
that truly shines,
Finally, in His uuniverse,
Utterly divine!
Living in His world must be
so glorious.
Experiencing the fateful joy,
of being humbly victorious!
5/21/2024
I go to bed. It’s been a long day.
All of the day’s cares melt away.
There’s no guessing what I might ponder.
My mind leaves my body to wander,
Taking flight, leaving reason behind,
It has its own mind. It’s unconfined.
It flies to the sky, drops in a well,
Visits heaven, and it visits hell.
Old beds reinvent themselves,
as archived hammocks for the distilling
of sweat and foam.
Sprung mattress’ sag like spavined camels,
or twist days and nights together
into sheets stuffed with mental laundry.
Some beds have fallen comatose,
they wilt like boneless owls
in slumbering hollow.
A young boy jumps up and down on his bed.
One day he jumps very high,
when he lands, he is a teenager. By his side
a young girl,
both not knowing what to do next,
until the bed
begins to whisper to them.
In the dark shadow is where they wait
I can see them and hear them, up very late
The sound of the tick tock drums in my head
As I hide under the sheets of my cosy warm bed
What is it? I wonder, that creeps and crawls
Making creeks in my wardrobe and in the floors
It's scared of the light as it goes when their on
And it hates adults, if they're here it's just gone!
It never shows itself or appears during the day
Or when I play music, dance or I play
It's never hurt me and I have been here for years
So I wonder why it causes me all of these fears
If I close my eyes in the middle of the day
It makes all the light disappear straight away
That's not scary so I can't figure out why
The darkness at bedtime can make me cry
So I have decided its me and a thing when I'm tired
With a little nice music I hear nothing undesired
So I still don't like it when it is dark in my room
I am brave now and know I will be asleep soon.
Each bedtime makes me a night-clown,
Minty paste seltzers every tooth.
Puppetry for sleep at sundown,
Ends in a circus, dreams of youth.
Tamed at knee in dress of cotton,
Each bedtime makes me a night-clown.
Farce forgives day-gains ill-gotten,
Hangs on bedpost the big-top crown.
Smile bones polished, no longer brown,
Gaslights flicker, still, no romance.
Each bedtime makes me a night-clown,
Illusionist trick, sleepy trance.
Ticket prices have now been paid,
The audience has been sat down.
Soft as applause, my head is laid.
Each bedtime makes me a night-clown.
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