I think, I would

I think, I would sleep tonight
peacefully,
No more there is any request
from the kids in my house
to weave a tale for them.

All my tales are
stale and smell like old cheese
they have allowed a gadget in their room
at night
to gale and regale themselves.
My stories wove dreams for them
as my dreams wove stories for them
I used to spread the woven fabric
with fabulous fables all around
and have them seated on it
the fabric becomes a magic carpet
and it whirls and swirls
all around the globe
the stars
the suns
the heavens above and hell below
they used to sleep every night
on my knees
after a tiresome journey
to the fable land
They will no more come to me tonight
they will not care for the watchman’s whistle
They would not keep me awake
I shall sleep tonight
peacefully
alone.