from the heart
of a little girl named Anna
the pillows of her bed.
Nestled in their percale home
a tiny family named Pillowkins
came to life at bedtime.
Papa, Mama, Stitches, and Lace
greeted her as soon
as the lights were turned out.
There were giggles and whispers
as the tiny troop climbed Feather Mountain
to slide down golden hair strands
into Anna’s hand.
Anna’s freckled, chubby face
lost all the sorrow of being picked on
and beamed under the spell
of her nighttime friends.
Secrets she must keep in the daylight
didn’t matter under the glow
of a nightlight moon.
The small family was always delighted
to be the guests of their young friend.
Gathered under fantasy’s canopy
they played in the light of Anna’s smile.
There were adventure rides on buttons,
swims in laughter’s tears,
and twirling rides on ribbons.
The Pillowkins stayed with her
until Anna’s yawns and heavy eyelids
told them slumber was near.
With whispered goodbyes
she placed them back in their
home between her pillows.
The family waited until Anna fell asleep
and then gathered in their doorway
to watch over her until morning.
©Susie Clevenger 2011
This was from my childhood.
My imagination birthed the Pillowkins.
Prompt: Poetry Picnic Week 13