Nod
playground of the goblin moon
and all things
that go bump or flit or slither
in the dark.
Where shadows revel…flirt
beneath a star-sequined sky
while their human counterparts
lie snug as bugs in a rug
back home in their downy beds.
Nod…
where bogeys and bugbears…
in hidey holes…fetid swamps…
compare numbers…
with chest thumping boasts…
of children left teary-eyed…
paralyzed with dread
upon bedsheets drenched by liquid fright.
Nod…
where in glowing pastures of midnight blue
herds of flame-eyed nightmares graze
upon sleepwort and tansy root
to the tune
of a wind-whistled lullaby
and the Sandman
in phosphorescent silk
gathers slumber-sand from the banks
of the Beddy-Bye.
The End
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