Um... not much of a poet... please give constructive criticism?


Twisting and turning

Counting sheep, then blanking

The mind, listening to

The sounds of the night

Hoping

Wishing

Waiting

Sleep will not come.

Monsters under the bed,

In the closet,

Behind the door.

Within a snug and cosy cocoon

Of sheets

Shiver.

The shadows move.

An owl hoots, a cricket

Chirps. Curl

Tighter. Tighter.

Sleep will not come.

The shadows move.

Fear's icy grip

Grope for the light

It has moved.

Trapped.

The monsters close

In. Fangs, claws

Horns of bone, wings of leather

Silently

Shaking

Shivering

Screaming

The shadows move.

Then

Safety, warmth

Wraps in bright embrace

Through the gap in the curtains.

The monsters anger

Roaring

Thrashing

Dive

For the window

Rip open the soft

Fabric

One last screech of rage

The monsters vanish.

Sleep

No longer matters

The sun has risen.

No matter how long

The night

The sun will rise.

The sun will rise.