We who with songs beguile your pilgrimage / And swear that Beauty lives though lilies die, / We Poets of the proud old lineage / Who sing to find your hearts, we know not why ... (James Elroy Flecker)

16.8.24

Nowadays


my bed 

goes right to the floor


no bogeyman lurks beneath


darkness is haven

soothing my rest


my cat lies near


ghosts are friendly

visits from loved ones


the child sleeps




For Friday Writings #140 at Poets and Storytellers United, we are invited to write about something that's not so scary any more. I had the classic childhood fears. (Yes, I know in America he is  – now, and perhaps always – called the boogeyman, but he was the bogeyman here, when I was little.)








18 comments:

  1. Oh what a wonderful peaceful poem and I love how the ghosts are friendly visits from loved ones

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    1. I am certainly glad to have lost those childhood fears!
      Being long-lived means some you care for die first – so, yes, it is very nice to have them return lovingly, whether in memory or spirit.

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  2. So wonderfully distilled - I am glad you have the company of your cat - Jae

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  3. "The child sleeps" - what a wonderful line that is- connecting time and age... beautiful close to that poem.

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  4. When there is no room for monsters to creep like contented children we sleep.

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  5. I've read that "bogeyman" can be traced back to old British words, while "boogie" and "boogieman" may reflect first contact with the Bugis people. Who knows?

    (Of all the things that looked strange and sinister in the dark when I wasn't comfortable in a new place--all the looming hulks of shrouded furniture and cartons, all the shadows that looked just like Mr. Stranger Danger, all the spooky new noises--I think I never did find the time or mental energy to worry much about things under the bed! Under the bed was where I wanted to explore! But children project fears onto everything. I baby-sat one who confided that her Strawberry Shortcake nursery was haunted by nightmares of "horrible slippers, with eyes and a mouth that talks and whispers horrible things," when her mother was ill, and I could relate, having once had a nightmare about a terribly cute stuffed plush animal when I was running a fever.)

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    1. Fascinating etymology; thank you.
      Funny, in the daytime I liked exploring under the bed, and was not afraid to hide under it sometimes, but at night I would take a flying leap on to it from the middle of the room so that SOMETHING (I didn't know what, only that it was evil and scary) could not grab me by the ankles and pull me under.

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  6. Interesting poem. I am just wondering why I was spared any fear of boogey men ghosts and monsters. I think it may have something to do with living with my grandmother. She was a force to be reckoned with and would never have tolerated any of these in the house They wouldn't have stood a chance LOL...Rall

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    1. Oh, I love the sound of her! Her presence must have made you feel very safe indeed, and perhaps even invincible – or at least very sure that she was.

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  7. I love, 'a child sleeps'. My bed goes down to the floor, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

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  8. They say- time heals & time is the biggest healer.
    Happy that as the years go by, so do our fears!

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