(This poem won a third-place award at a competition, and I still don't know how it did so, for I consider it one of my not-so-good works!)
The Terrors of a 5-year-old at Night
The night was quiet and dim,
With only an owl’s soft sound,
When over my blanket's rim
I chose to look around.
For at this age of childhood,
The dimness of night is terror,
For I thought in the darkness I would,
Be taken away forever.
Around the room my vision spied,
And not a thing I saw.
Until mine eyes fearfully espied
Through the window a gaping jaw.
I gasped, and dived out of sight,
Hugging my pillow for dear life,
For the hideous shape in so dim a light
To my insides caused such strife.
After a long time of silence,
I peeked out slowly from my refuge.
The hideous being was in its appearance
Motionless in its deluge.
Its presence was yet unsettling,
Though it stood motionless there.
So I stayed in my refuge settling,
Praying that I’d continue to bear.
When the horizon was graced by the sun,
I peeked yet again from the sheet,
To see setting in the window outdone,
Was nothing but my brother’s cleat.
This goes to tell, that many a time,
When you see something frightful,
Without investigation, on the thing sublime,
You should not be so spiteful!
