dearest Mother and Father,
I’m in a spot of bother
I can’t go to sleep, you see,
for there appears to be
a Beast-Hemoth under my bed
you’ll say that my mind’s playing tricks
I’d believe you if he didn’t kick
but he turns in his sleep
that big snoring heap
and his tail keeps whacking my head
I’ve tried waking the great big lump
by kicking his big fat rump
but he’s hungry you see
and he won’t listen to me
when I tell him to get out of my bed
so I’m sorry dear Mother and Father,
I hate to be such a bother
but if I go back to my room
and the Beast-Hemoth of doom
I fear that I might wake up dead
get my little butt right back upstairs?
I’m starting to think you don’t care
for I’ll die if I go
this is as big as I’ll grow
that Beast-Hemoth has never been fed
you’ll feel in the morning regret
when you wake up to find I’ve been et
or you’ll be cross with me
if he answers my plea
and he eats my sister instead
© Sarah Whiteley
