When suddenly I wake from drowsy sleep
With bedsheets rumpled ‘round my sweaty chest
In childish terror I begin to weep
And bring my knees up tightly to my breast.
To be afraid is to feel powerless;
To wish for salves of stories and warm tea,
The panacea of a light caress
As breathing regains regularity.
Can proud adulthood’s stoic countenance
Extinguish fears of monsters in the night?
Poor logic’s armour offers no defense
When terror’s hand asserts its iron might.
But tender heart, keep safe in this cocoon
Go back to sleep, for comfort follows soon.
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