The Wake

A child finds Nod
when the sun takes leave
and fiends of twilight
their games do weave.

The peppermint man
with the roll-up face
and moon rock eyes
and hair of lace

creeps in the shadows
on the ceiling at night,
watching over babes
and keeping out of sight.

Ne’er is he weary
in wake of scaries,
even when faced
with blightful fairies,

though the fairy lord
wields a hunger, savage
as his minion droves,
what rape and ravage.

But now is the calm
with the night soothing dark
while the stars, in peace,
shimmer and spark.

Then half past the hour
of the sabbat’s birth,
comes carried on wind
a stygian mirth.

The most hellish of sprites
arrive with a crack
to harvest the youth
for their lord’s nightly snack.

They gather above
the pure vestal spread
and hum softly a spell
of terror and dread.

But gleaming from shadows
are two moon rock eyes;
the peppermint man
in a state of apprise…

Leaps from his veil,
silent and swift,
and un-rolls his face
and opens his rift!

He devours each fae
with one fearsome bite
and rolls up his face
and fades back to night.

The peppermint man
with the roll-up face
and moon rock eyes
and hair of lace

returns to the shadows
on the ceiling at night,
watching over babes
and keeping out of sight.