A thumping on the stairs.
A pounding in the hall.
Suddenly music blares.
(“Pink” I think)
But I couldn’t be sure at all.
I lie atrembling in my bed,
As the kitchen kettle switches on.
Preparing myself, in my head,
To be horribly leapt upon.
Silly, but I think of the things I should have cleaned.
All the tasks I left undone.
Then I’m smothered by my own Josey Fiend,
Calling me “her loverly mum”.
Monsters should be malicious.
Demons aren’t supposed to be sweet,
But mine can be delicious,
A wickedly naughty, mischievous treat.
Nose hair plucked, moustache trimmed.
Boots polished, jodhpurs cleaned.
Hair all primped and primmed.
My adorable little Josey Fiend.
« return.