Her Guardian

Last night I heard her pittipat

     Across the darkened hall

And stop before my chamber door,

     And give a frightened call.

“Papa I had an awful dream,

     May I crawl in your bed?

You won’t let the Boogymans get me

     Will you, papa?” She said.

She snuggled then so close and tight

     I scarce could breathe the while;

And soon she wandered off to sleep,

     Upon her lips a smile.

The Boogyman was scared away,

     Two brawny arms were there

To keep the world and all away

     From one so young and fair.

And then I asked the Only One

     To always watchful be,

To walk with her upon the waves

     Of life’s great, mystic sea.

To guard her from the Boogyman

     By night as well as day;

To guide her weak and wand’ring steps

     Wherever they may stray.

July 10, ‘09

Irene Cone