The Night Poem

Me: That was an awfully stormy night, Nell.

Nell: Yes, it was. David slept through it all but Harriet was restless.

Me: Poor darling girl.

Nell: We both cuddled up to David so we were absolutely fine.

Me: I had one of those awful pandemic dreams.

Nell: What do you mean?

Me: I was stuck on an overcrowded bus. Nobody was wearing a mask and we were going goodness knows where.

Nell: Oh yes, I know the ones.

Me: Anyway, at 5am I just got up and went and wrote a poem.

Nell: Of course you did.

Me: Would you like to hear it?

Nell: Yes.

Me: I think it’s probably you I’m talking to in it because it usually is, if you know what I mean.

Nell: I do.

Me: It’s called ‘There’s a Lion in the En Suite.’

Nell: Good grief. Go on then.

Me: ‘There’s a lion in the en suite’.

‘Now, don’t be silly.’

‘I can hear the sound of angry feet.’

‘Just stop now, really.’

‘I can feel the heat of lion’s breath.’

‘Calm down, will you?’

‘We are heading for a dreadful death.’

‘Please stop this hullabaloo.’

‘I know I heard a lion roar.’

‘You didn’t, I assure you.’

‘And now it’s scratching on the door.’

‘Enough now, I implore you.’

‘It’s sniffing cos it’s caught our smell.’

‘It really isn’t, honestly.’

‘It’s hungry, you can always tell.’

‘Now stop and listen well to me.

The wind is keeping the house awake

This can happen in a storm.

The windows can all start to shake

The doors can sound alarm.

There’s nothing at all to worry about

No need to cower in fear

Even if a lion was in the en suite

You know that I am here.’

Nell: You do.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

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