A terror of the dark when I was four

Brought crawling creatures all around my bed;

I’d lie awake, await the tiger’s tread,

Smell spiders crammed behind the wardrobe door.

And lightless dreams would bring the monster’s roar,

With nothing there to see outside my head;

Imagined movements filled my mind with dread,

Each touch upon my hand a threatening paw.

But now, for me, the dark must be complete:

No digital device, no glaring screen;

To sleep, I need the absence of the light;

No passing cars, no lamplight from the street;

No glimmering moon or starlight to be seen:

The darkest sky will give the perfect night.

 

John Scrivens