This week's prompt word for my poem was 'Kid'. It was another one which took a few days of thinking. It was written in the car on the way to walking on the Roman Wall on the Sycamore Gap stretch of the journey (RIP tree) and on the way back to get changed to visit the Glasshouse for a concert with the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra.
Night Terrors
"I kid you not, it's terrifying!
I hear a monstrous dragon flying.
Malevolent with fangs so long.
Please stay with me, you are so strong!"
"I see no dragon, no need to hide.
Your imagination's in overdrive!"
"I do not jest, I'm over-awed,
I hear a mighty wolf, sharp-clawed,
He's watching me with evil eyes,
Please stay with me, you are so wise!"
"I see no wolf, no provocation,
You've got a vivid imagination!"
"I do not joke, I start to quake,
I hear a fearsome, massive snake,
He wants to squeeze me in his 'arms'
Please stay with me, keep me from harm!"
"I see no snake, no need to fear,
Your brain plays tricks, there's nothing here."
"I do not fabricate, beware!
I hear a snuffling, growling bear,
Massive, mighty, he wants to bite!,
Please stay with me and hold me tight!"
"I see no bear, no cause to fret,
This room is bare of bears, my pet."
"I tell no lie, my nerves are soaring,
I hear a dangerous lion roaring,
Hungry, surely he wants to feed.
Please stay with me or he'll succeed!"
"I see no lion, real or other,
It seems the sounds are all your brother!"
I had various ideas for this one, one, something based on the Billy Goat's Gruff and the other, using the phrase, "I kid you not!" which CBC kept telling me for ages was not a real phrase until he kept hearing other people ALSO say it.
I went with the second idea and it was going to be a poem about a child being scared with a vivid imagination (ME!) and imagining all sorts of things under the bed or outside the window whilst trying to sleep. Originally, it was going to be a 'Boy who cried wolf' situation where the child tells one lie too many and then gets eaten by something but then the poem didn't feel like it wanted to do that so all of a sudden, it felt like that child was being gaslighted by an older sibling to who was making convincing sound effect to genuinely terrify the younger, more impressionable one.
I feel like it ends a bit abruptly, but to fit with the repetition and the length of the other stanzas, it had to be so. Do you think the parent sounds too unsympathetic in their response? I think sometimes there is a fine balance between building resilience and genuinely supporting a terrified vivid imagination. What's your take on it?