Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

 

 

 

My Knight

My seven-year-old son informed me

 he would like a knight’s outfit,

with a sword for Halloween.

I thought it odd at the time

For he likes clowns

I managed to find one his size

He looked the very inch of a Knight

in shining armour. No face paint, he said.

He needed to be seen.

After two hours of walking around

I could see my tiny knight tiring

Time for tea, bath and bed, or so I thought.

No amount of persuasion could remove the outfit

He refused to go to bed,

so, I let him fall asleep on the sofa

Carrying him to his bed, he woke

Telling me he had to stay awake until midnight

“If Gran comes back, I have to save her…”

The gifting hour, when the dead can walk among us

Oh God, why had I explained this to him

I should have known he was too young.

He slept with the sword for two weeks

Before leaving it under his bed

Clearing his room, picking stray toys from the floor

I asked if we could put the sword in the toy box

He said he didn’t need it anymore.

“Gran kissed me goodnight, so I know she is all right.”

It seems my tiny knight was happy again…

©anitadawes