The Void
A Bedtime Story at Midnight
A Bedtime Story at Midnight
In a rocking chair positioned next to a burning coal fire.
There sits a story teller, rocking to - and - throw.
Wrapped in a cosy blanket, wearing nose brimmed spectacles, that reflect
the fire's orange glow.
A single lamp in the corner, is the only light in the room, it casts a subtle
shadow upon the story teller's face.
a wise and gentle soul, she resides alone. In a warm cottage.
Her cat sleeps by her side, curled up in a circle, an animal companion.
One that keeps her in good company, on those long cold winter nights.
She rocks back and fourth, in her hand crafted rocking chair.
She reads to all the world's children, as they settle down to sleep.
Boys and girls, with milk and cookies in hand. As they sit listening
to a bedtime story at midnight; that she reads in a far away magical
land.
These stories that are told, both new and old. They speak of far away places.
Filled with princesses, and dragons with scales, and pirate ships with
candy cotton sails.
Images come to life, in the minds of the very young.
As they imagine the characters from these tails, woven like a tapestry of
miracles; floating on the air, like a bird song.
Tick, tock - tick, tock the clock strikes 12. As the story teller reads aloud.
Tall tales of wonderous places, filled with a carnival of colours.
Picturesque palaces, where fare maidens await a true love's kiss; as a circus
roles into the town.
So many people you would get lost in the crowd.
In the story teller's cottage where time seams to stand still.
The fire begins to lose it's glow, and the light dims.
As she rocks to and throw, as children all over the world begin
to grow sleepy.
One by one, they are tucked into bed.
To dream of magical places.
Running through candy cotton fields, picking apples from liquorice trees.
As they fly dragon kites, and run and play. Cheering with happiness,
as they role down a icing sugar hill.
A Bedtime Story at Midnight
