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…
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