Mismatched boxes, shoes and toys, stuffed haphazard 'neath the bed,
A cheerful bedspread under which bright, happy dreams fill sleepy head.
There, tales of magic kingdoms live in secret lands of make believe,
Until the darkness slides along the folds upon All Hallows' Eve.
 

Then, faerie realms seem dark and grim and little eyes grow wide with dread,
Whilst peering over crumpled sheets afraid to face the night ahead.
Augustus Bear, a child's first friend, sits patiently upon the chair,
A moonbeam creeps across his eyes where forms a dark, malefic stare.


By day the rattling window pane goes on a- jiggling in its frame,
And stays unnoticed all the year because it's always been the same.
A job that will be done one day but nobody can quite believe,
And only noticed when it's heard the night it is All Hallows' Eve.
 

Is it a wraith whose fetid breath respires against the misted pane,
Or wizened hag with bony fingers coming into your domain?
What darker force is leaning on the fragile wood to break inside,
And slink into the darkness where sweet little ones are known to hide.


A sudden movement in the depths provokes a gasp and grips the soul,
For in the inky, blackness lives the fiercest Dragon of them all.
Angry fire upon its breath, if agitated or annoyed.
(A deed even the bravest child with all their valour should avoid.)
'Let me rest, little one' .......it seems to hiss,
                                                           as shadows creep...
A warning whispered knowingly to freeze the blood and hinder sleep.
 

And as it has for all of time, dawn finally will come
And fears will fade as tired eyes spot ...
                                                             That old green slipper
                                                                                 With the red tongue.