By brian francis
There is a mountain so high
Just outside of town
So high that the top
has never been found
In the clouds in the sky
The summit is hidden
Monsters and dragons live there
In a land called Forbidden
But sometimes it is said
That late in the night
They visit below
But they stay out of sight
They sniff and they stalk
And they prowl in that hour
They hunt for a morsel
Or two to devour
Their favorite snacks
That they love most of all
Are children who are sour
Who cry and who bawl
They don’t seem to like
the sweet little ones
The very good daughters
And very good sons
But when they can find
A mean little child
Who hates and who argues
The kind they call wild
They sneak into bedrooms
And snatch them it’s said
covers won’t protect them
even pulled over the head
And lights won’t stop monsters
Like some people think
Closed eyes cannot see them
So it’s best not to blink
The best way to keep
From becoming their stew
Is to be good and be loving
To be honest and true
And to never go to bed
Without making things right
Unless you are willing
to be snatched in the night
Copyright ©2020 brian francis