We can not see the stars, street lights will do.
No fairy dust, this urban myth is true.
Each night the tales of day I let unfold.
Our magic duvet shields us from the cold.
Cinderella moved, she went suburban.
We have a prince next door, he wears a turban.
Some magic beans available upstairs
Accompanied by music, scraping chairs.
Other options do include Snow White
Conjured up with swearing and a fight.
Goldilocks ate porridge, lucky her
Here they’d skin each bear to sell the fur.
Evil queens provide some light relief
Patrick threw a teapot, broke Keith’s teeth.
Carriages of kings shine black and blue
Badged with magic BMW.
Read more to my child, they overlook,
I can’t write or spell, I own no book.
But it is the telling, not what’s told,
When you fall asleep at six years old.