The Dream Door

The Dream Door
A poetic yarn ... about the magic of yarn.

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Down the hallway, sobs could be heard,
muffled and faint as I lay sleeping.
Awaking, I listened but nary a word
came to me - only his distant weeping.

I silently moved and discovered my child,
wrapped in his blanket, his armor at night,
with tears on his cheeks, his eyes slightly wild.
Perhaps a dream was the cause of his fright?

I held him closely and vanquished his fears
with soothing words and soft, gentle strokes.
Soon he was quiet and gone were his tears.
"What's wrong, little man?" I began to coax.

In shuddering words he started to speak,
describing the horrors that lurked in the dark.
"There's one in the closet that makes the door squeak
and has glowing eyes and teeth like a shark.

There's one under the bed, who steals all my socks
and giggles with glee when I get the blame.
He loves to hide them behind the toy box
and late at night, he calls out my name."

"Oh my dear boy, how brave you must be,"
I said as he told how they gave him no peace.
"No wonder you're frightened. They sound so scary.
If I leave lights on, though, their power will cease."

"They still can get me," he mournfully said.
"I thought that your blanket provided protection."
With a sniffle he raised it from off of the bed
and showed me the problem of its imperfection.

The edge was frayed where the yarn had come loose.
The binding was gone and a hole had been worn,
the result of love and not from abuse.
"Why, you should have told me that it was torn."

"I know what to do," I smilingly said,
"I'll be right back" and I ruffled his hair,
I returned in a flash with needles and thread
then picked up the blanket, gently with care.

"You have to remember that every hole
has two directions – an in and an out."
Using my fingers, I played out the role
so he'd understand without any doubt.

"Now here is the magic of what we will do."
I carefully pulled at the dangling thread.
"We'll make a doorway that's only for you
to keep all the bad thoughts out of your head."

He watched as I took what was already there
and, stitch by stitch, a pattern emerged
as I carefully worked on the blanket's repair,
and the sides of the hole slowly converged.

"What do you think?" I showed him the square
as I held up the pattern that I had just wrought.
"It looks like a picture of my Teddy Bear!"
There was joy in his voice, no longer distraught.

"I know you'll be safe between blanket and bear,
and nothing will ever disturb you at night."
A smile creased his face, gone was despair,
as he snuggled down with the blanket held tight.

Soon he drifted off and as I left the room,
I thought of my promise and hoped it would keep.
The darkness of night faded with the sun's bloom.
A new day was dawning but I still needed sleep!


Notes
An entry written for "Invalid Item" 
Prompt: Must reference yarn in some form.
Form: Quatrains with abab rhyme.
Word Count: 519
Line Count: 60

A special thanks to blainecindy for her "eagle-eyes" in proofing and polishing this and Louise Wiggins is Elizabeth for helping smooth out the rhyme. I guess it does take a village!

Thank you for taking time to read my words. I would appreciate it if you took a moment and left a comment. Your reaction, impressions, criticisms, - yes, even praise - are all equally welcome.

Ken