Bedtime Story
The sun had long set, it was time for bed.
Jack looked up at his mother, telling her
He wanted a story.
Jack’s mother liked telling her small boy stories.
She liked that his eyes were riveted
On her as she told him her tale.
‘Tonight it was about a small boy.
He was afraid of the dark.
The mother worried about
Her son’s continual recount of
His fear of the dark.
He told his mother that when,
She turned out the light, visitors would come.
It was clear he believed the story he told.
Every night she would hear him call her.
Every night she would run to him,
Hold him and rock him back to sleep.
In the morning she would look at him
Ask him if he had slept well.
Always he replied; the lady rocked me to sleep.’
Jack loved this story
He told a similar tale himself
When he would so often awaken and call his mum.
This night looking at her son,
With the love only a mother knows
She told her son when the light was turned off the light
When he was afraid, to ask the lady’s protection.
Expecting the usual evening to occur
She retired to her room and awaited his call.
None came.
Worried she went to his door.
All she heard was the soft breathing of her son.
She sat beside him looking at his sleeping innocence.
The next morning she asked him how he had slept.
Great he said.
No visitors?
Oh yes!
But you didn’t call out.
He looked at his mum,
The visitors had gathered as usual
Round his bed
But the lady had asked them to go away.
Then she sat and told me a story.
She said I would sleep fine from now on.
The next evening she readied again to tell him a tale
No, the lady said she would come.
She tells good stories mum
And sometimes sings me a song.
Goodnight mummy.
She waited outside and listened.
In time she heard him talking.
She crept to his door and peeped in,
Her son sitting up, eyes open, looking at the end of his bed.
Moving closer he settled into his bed
Closed his eyes and drifted into sleep.
The mother sat and watched her son.
Sleeping peacefully.
In the morning she asked to whom he was talking?
The lady he replied.
What does she look like?
She loos like you mummy.
Like me?
Yes. She sings to me.
What does she sing?
‘Go to sleep pretty baby, mummy will be here.’
She remembered that song had been sung to her.
She recalled the lady who sang it to her.
She knew, her son was safe.
Written for: http://dversepoets.com/2014/01/23/meetingthebar-bedtime-stories-tall-tales-the-art-of-story-telling/
Morpethroad 
This is just wonderful Michael! Isadora started having nightmares but I told her I always dance with the monsters and talk with them and then they aren’t scary anymore I know it is silly but it works for me and she hasn’t woke us with a nightmare since
Thank you so much.i am happy you could connect with this. There is a story behind it as well.
Oh?
I hope this helps to explain it for you.
https://summerstommy.com/2013/06/12/bedtime-story/
I love the way you use very plain, simple language, no gimmicks, just to recount the story and yet you achieve a frisson with that.
Thank you Marina, I appreciate your comments.
ah yes this story – hugs and beautifully written
Thank you so much Jenny.
somehow this was a bit creepy first you know that this lady looks like the mom and for the son she is so very real…good though that she seems to know her and that she knows the song as well
Thanks Claudia, there is another story behind the tale.
Wonderful tale my friend.
Thank you so much.
Nice poem of peace and comfort provided by a mother! Michael, I read your poem and then your explanation. Dealing with your father ‘s death must have been hard and I am glad writing provided comfort.
Thanks Gabriella it did me a great comfort. Thank you so much.
awww an endearing tale…her mom, the ghost of her that once told the stories…that is a cool little ghost story michael…i agree in that the straight forward approach works really well and adds a level of innocence to this….
Thanks brian, most things I do are simple, if not I don’t understand what I’ve written.
What a moving story really. Good to hear that the boy hears someone singing & it is someone who looks like his mother & the voice gives him comfort before he sleeps.
Thank you Mary. yes comfort is what is it about and acceptance.
Love it.. to withdraw from the need of nightly tales is not easy.. good way to cope with it… great story Michael
Thank you Bjorn, I actually love this particular story as it have special significance to me.
Lovely! I had a bad feeling in the middle of it that it was going to be a horror story but you resolved it so peacefully!! 🙂 🙂
Thanks Helen, if you look on MLM’s comment there is a link to where and why the story was first written.
This is a lovely tale. Told in the voice of an old time fable.
Thanks Kim, I do love this story happy you did too. Thanks for reading.
A touching story.
A few weeks ago when I went to my cousin’s house. She mentioned to me that her daughter would have visits from her grandpa’ (my uncle). And – that he sits at the foot of her bed or at a certain corner of the room. She’s 5 years old.
It happens doesn’t it, that’s. Lovely story too RoSy. Thanks for reading.
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