A Charm:

Child, don’t fear the thunder

The shadow, the reaper,

The tree rapping bone tendrils on your window

The flicker you didn’t see across the mirror

The door you swore was closed.

Child, don’t let 

The wind’s deep rasps scare you,

Or the ice stroking your back

Or the creaks under the stairs shake you.

Forget what you can’t see in the landing,

And what you think lies behind the armoire door.

Look to the garden, look to the garden. 

Child, may the oaks shelter you, 

The flowers bathe you,

The bees serenade you. 

Share their nectar, share their riches. 

Sleep under the oleander’s embrace.

Child, may the swan grace you with its virtue,

And keep you honest, pure, chaste

May the lark bring you love, the mares, mercy,

And though I sleep in this garden, may yours bloom plenty.