Frightened Fourteen (Kids Stuff) Poem by Sally Plumb Plumb

Down the stairs at midnight,
barefoot, painted toes,
she sits alone in a darklight
with just a candleglow.

Looking through the window
at the moonbeam spots,
cat magic, black, a scampering
over chimney tops.

She sips a cup of coffee,
then gazes at the moon.
Witches and warts are sometimes caught
in flicked lights of the room.

Polar mists and twistings,
curlings damp and cool,
float with silent ripples
across a yellow pool.

Up the shadowed stairway,
never looking back,
frightened of the shadow play,
hearts that turn to black.

Hurries through a bedroom door,
jumps covers into bed,
with silent footsteps on the floor
that she hears in her head.