The young sleeping monster
Rests his snoring head
On a cave
Nearly empty,
Except for two bloody bits
Of bone.
Nothing dares disturb the
Solitude except one other,
Larger beast.
Reaching into the
Pocket of darkness
With claws outstretched,
She holds her breath,
Snatching and substituting
With invisible instinct.
Then retreating into the night,
She clutches
Her stolen piece
Of childhood fantasy.
Seven sleepers
Wrapped in fuzzy
Bright blanket cocoons
Are attached
By nature’s law of rest
To mossy green carpet
On their classroom floor.
They wriggle and shift
In their slumber sacs,
Some breathing heavily
As they struggle
In dreams
To break free.
Warbled syllables and slurred phrases
Slide under my covers and sink into my pillow as I sleep.
They share lies about me along with my deepest secrets,
Thrown together like a gossip magazine.
Deafened by dreams,
My ears are spared the saga
Until smiled comments and friendly jokes
Unveil the latest evening news.
jacsprat 