Thund'ring Blunders

Thund'ring blunders through the night
as the child grasps blanket's might,
waiting for a moment more
where the rain and skies break form.
Candle-light and flickered death
freeze the scenery in breath
in the darkened quiet room
where they slumber.
Oh, you fools!
Tiptoe to the kitchen sink,
in the basement,
filled to brink
with the water from above
of the house and clouds and love.
Here the sneaker takes a glance,
all is quiet,
all is chance.
Child stands up
and parents too
since the night's new guest is you.
Creeping through the house, still sore,
clutching blanket, pan, and lore,
here they come to open doors,
then were three and now are four.
Then were less and now comes more
as they find the lack of gore,
for the sounds and fears of night
still are missing from their sight.
Here you stand and there they are,
facing to you, still not found.
Wonder if it's all a dream?
No, my dear,
the truth it seems:
you've arrested all the fears.
You've mistaken for the rest
what is best and what is next.
Face to face,
but not at all.
Demons harm them not to fall.
Father's charm brings to their might
what one never sees at night.