Each night, before you sleep, you wait to hear a tale unfold;
Hansel and Gretel, Puss-in-Boots, King Midas and his gold;
I read the old familiar words and watch your shining eyes
The moment that you know the Frog’s a fine Prince in disguise;
We hear the Emperor’s nightingale; we wander through the night
To find the seven kindly dwarfs who loved the fair Snow White;
My heart grows lighter every time we climb the twilit stair -
Tonight the maiden Rapunzel lets down her golden hair!
I know this story time will pass; that you will soon be grown
To sit, with book in hand, beside a daughter of your own.
Then will your heart remember, then will you understand
How magical can be the gates that lead to Fairyland -
The way they swing, to show, beyond, a lost, enchanted street
Where tired mothers run again - on winged, small-girl feet.
by Beulah Fenderson Smith
Beulah Fenderson Smith was born on 31 March 1915 in Ogunquit, Maine, United States of America. She became a poet, and also a columnist under the heading “Touchtone” for the “York County Coast Star” newspaper. Together with her husband Robert Smith, she owned and operated the Elmere Campground. Beulah Fenderson Smith passed on at 96 years of age on 29 June 2011 in Kittery, Maine, United States of America.