Bedtime, a poem

Remembering what it was like to have a bedtime, and what it was like at bedtime for my own kid.

Come, child, and rest your head,
Tis time to be ensconced in bed,
Have had your fill and had your play,
Been read a book, no more to say.

Tuck the blanket, fluff the pillows,
World is dark, all still the willows,
Mother’s seraphic smile above,
Whisper of “Good night, my love.”

Eyes shut, thoughts now set adrift,
Realms assembled imagination-swift,
Played out self-acted, you the star,
Adventures that are, at times, bizarre.

So may you slumber more than sleep,
And may your slumberings be sweet,
Wrapped up in dreams, this night,
Warm and rested till return of light.

Poetry by Harakhte