Something Grandma Said

When I was a child, young and wild,
alone with grandma in her old country cabin,
snuggled tight and high in the stiff iron bed,
when the panes were black and pressed with night
she told me a story that turned my head:

'Never go outside at night!
Just beyond the woodline there
lives a monster so mean with a face full of hair
like a drake or a Medusa!
He’s longer than the longest snake,
Taller than the highest tree,
He eats little boys for breakfast
and bats and bumblebees!

He stoops to not be noticed,
he sleeps awake on his knees
he can turn into a shining light
or melt into the breeze,
At midnight he dresses in berries and leaves!
At midnight he dresses in berries and leaves!

You're safe in here, so never fear,
but mind yourself at night-
He ate a chicken when the moon was full and
he might be back tonight!
he might be back tonight!

Later on, all grown and alone,
I snickered on granny's spin
There was in fact no monster.
Where on earth had this boy been?

But now I'm not so sure.
Last night I heard a noise, and a howl,
but maybe it was just the wind, or an owl.

Twenty long years have taken a bite
And still when the panes get black with night
my toes curl in from the edge of my bed
to keep me safe from the monster
just like my grandma said.