Childish Terror

Laced covered windows,

pink painted walls,

dancing flowers.

Fog-clouded lights,

dim of night,

eerie, uncommon sight.

Flying to my bed,

safe from Dracula,

and men from Mars.

Safely sleeping.

Night after night,

always the same,

throbbing pulse, palpitating heart.

Dream returning.

Running Running Running

Down Dark Desolate Streets

Pavement Pounding Behind

Strange, unknown, darkness

The big city bus station?

No one to help

No where to turn

Running Running Running

Down Dark Desolate Streets

Pavement Pounding Behind

No safe place to hide,

Storm a’brewing, a wall away

Innocent babes left adrift

Defenseless, helpless, orphaned for the night

No twinkling stars

No wasted wishes

Only,

Running Running Running

Down Dark Desolate Streets

Pavement Pounding Behind

Self-preservation prevailed.

Maternal instincts vanished.

Naïve nymphs neglected,

within the grasp of the angry, savage twin,

hoping for the gentle giant’s return.

Still,

Running Running Running

Down Dark Desolate Streets

Pavement Pounding Behind

Gentle giant retrieves.

Dance begins again.

Laurel Lindberg, July 6, 1997, Final Version

© copyright protected 1997 Luscious Press