Bedtime Story

Her name was Jane

Her time was once.

Her bedtime wish

Was a splendid garment

Mother made.

Its value surpassing a shawl

For this was a full body wrap

Adorned with a hood.

Commodious cloak forever in red

Protective influence of wool

Pseudonym to guard this girlishness,

Exhilarate child with basket

Bountifully laden with food,

To leave home straight-pathed

But unguarded.

Her grandmother adored

Generational force to draw to her bedside

Irreversible appointment

The parents too trifle, not daring.

But what of this walk through

The woods – this conceit of innocence

Immaculate and good

Transfixed with unblemished soul

Her world like Mirandas

Concealing its Calibans

The emergence of evil in time.


Grandmother, loneliness leaves us,

Even our temperamental children

Remember us,

And the risk of a bedtime story

Plagues us

‘Til the forest vanquishes

The eternal wolf.



Ted Goodell


(Original post December 2014, Re-post January 2019)


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