Up the Stairway

He lies there in fixed position,

blue footy pajamas,

grasping his green glow-worm—

it lights when you squeeze it.

But these were not his thoughts

this evening, as he slowly

heard the footsteps creaking,

from where he thought

no man surely should be creeping.

His eyes soddenly archaic,

tugging at the firm snugged

blanket, in hopes he was sensing

something false. So to alleviate

the trauma, that for certain

must be fixed, he reached his head

below the curtain

only to be affixed. The blood red

eyes staring from beneath hastened

his heart and gritted his teeth.

Upon present premonition

he darted from his post,

sprinted down the hallway and away

from a treacherous hoax.

Up into Grandma's bed

he sprang, in the middle to be safe,

and as he awoke, he felt a poke,

and saw Grandma's candid face—