The Dream Thieves

Knock three times
Then knock once again
Knock upon the moor land streams
Knock upon the glen
Knock upon the upright stones
Knock upon the gables
Knock upon the blue bell knolls
Knock upon upon the tables

Knock with all your strength and might
Knock till your palms are red
Knock till the morning light
To keep them from our beds

For the thieves they creep
Below mire and creak
Beneath paving curb slab and stone
They come to peruse
Those criminal crews
Right in the heart of your town

To succor sweet from children's cheeks
T'is true I have been told
They gouge your dreams
Just leaving screams
They come in the night and the cold

The dream thieves
The dream thieves
Are stealing into town
The dream thieves
The dream thieves
Are stealing all around

Clawing at your window pane
Creaking across your floor
Over tiny cracks
In chimney stacks
or slithering beneath your door

So before they come a pestering
In the dark of night
And thieving beneath your pillow soft
We'll chase them far from sight
We'll spot their tracks
And hunt their backs
And mark each cunning fellow

So out we go
In hunting throws
Divinating across the land
To find the thieves
Deep beneath the leaves
With only chalk, and flour, and eyes and hands...

At this spot
My divining rod stops
Telling me they are close
Place your ear
On a tree trunk near
Or fence post deep and strong
And listen to the dream thieves' talk
As they mumble and rumble along

The first one has yellowing warty skin
Short lanky hair and a crocheted cardigan
Well soiled socks in open toed sandals
And his nest is lit by stolen church candles
Which sits on a ledge just below your feet
Which can melt the snow with its meagre heat
And there he waits with his precious things
Scented erasers and pockets full of tins
Loom band broaches a chaffinches foot
Barbie doll heads and a rusty fishing hook

So first we scribe a circle
Deep and full and round
With your silky toe
Wide and slow
Upon the trembling ground

Or make a simple chalky notch
Note the time
Check your watch

Mark this place with a telling sign
A circle perhaps with intersecting lines
Then all can see it marks the den
So we can knock three times
And knock once again

So his home is marked
For the cross you've parked
Sits just meters from his squat
Now move on down
For the next is to be found
We won't stop till we have the lot

At this spot
My divining rod stops
Telling me they are close
Place your ear
On a tree trunk near
Or fence post deep and strong
And listen to the dream thieves' talk
As they mumble and rumble along

Now this one is a grumpy lot
His eyes are white
Above a mouth like a slot
Mean and tight
And good for nothing
He's the one who always does the pushing

Grubby jeans patched
with electrical tape
Shirt too tight as his belly button escapes
Out of which potatoes sprout
As well as his nose and ears and mouth
Which curl and twist like hanks of rope
But behind his eyes lies a spark of hope

Now scribe a circle full and round
With your toe upon the ground
Or make a simple chalky notch
Note the time
Check your watch

Mark this place with a telling sign
A circle with intersecting lines
So all can see it marks the den
Then knock three times
And knock once again

So his home is marked
For the cross you've parked
Sits just meters from his squat
Now move on down
For the next is to be found
We won't stop till we have the lot

At this spot
My divining rod stops
Telling me they are close
Place your ear
On a tree trunk near
Or fence post deep and strong
And listen to the dream thieves' talk
As they mumble and rumble along

This one comes from the bottom of the ocean
And totters slowly with a swaying motion
With his bag pipe satchel over his shoulder
Carefully protecting his treasured toy soldiers
And collection of tiny porcelain cats
With slightly chipped ears
As they nock in his pack
And make a pretty clinking sound
You know he is coming
You'll know when he's around

Now scribe a floury circle full and round
With your toe upon the ground
Or make a simple white powder notch
Note the time
Check your watch

Mark this place with a telling sign
A circle with intersecting lines
So all can see it marks the den
Then knock three times
And knock once again

So his home is marked
For the cross you've parked
Sits just meters from his squat
Now move on down
For the next is to be found
We won't stop till we have the lot

At this spot
My divining rod stops
Telling me they are close
Place your ear
On a tree trunk near
Or fence post deep and strong
And listen to the dream thieves' talk
As they mumble and rumble along

This one has a face like a worm
Pearls on his neck and a footballers perm
Threadbare shirts as filthy as the midden
He sucks at old tea bags
And likes to remain hidden
He moves quite slow in the corner of your eye
Is there something you see
Was there someone you spied?

Now scribe a circle full and round
With your toe upon the ground
Or make a simple floury notch
Note the time
Check your watch

Mark this place with a telling sign
A circle with intersecting lines
So all can see it marks the den
Then knock three times
And knock once again

So his home is marked
For the cross you've parked
Sits just meters from his squat
Now move on down
For the next is to be found
We won't stop till we have the lot

At this spot
My divining rod stops
Telling me they are close
Place your ear
On a tree trunk near
Or fence post deep and strong
And listen to the dream thieves' talk
As they mumble and rumble along

This one is tall and mysteriously dark
And often wanders around the park
And loiters low in the cruelest places
And leaves no prints nor foot step traces
His unearthly gaze and long black brow
Reminds me of week old cheesy towels
And the stink left by midnight foxes
Along the canal over cardboard boxes
A fusty odor which makes us wonder
Who are they who always squander
The precious things we have in life
Son and daughter man and wife
How it is some can become so lost
And pay with sadness
What a terrible cost
But you ignore his loss
And begin the powdering
Now is not the time for talking

So scribe a circle full and round
With your silky toe upon the ground
Or make a simple floury notch
Note the time
Check your watch

Mark this place with a telling sign
A circle with intersecting lines
So all can see it marks the den
Then knock three times
And knock once again

So his home is marked
For the cross you've parked
Sits just meters from his squat
Now move on down
For the next is to be found
We won't stop till we have the lot

At this spot
My divining rod stops
Telling me they are close
Place your ear
On a tree trunk near
Or fence post deep and strong
And listen to the dream thieves' talk
As they mumble and rumble along

This one is crooked and painfully hunched
With cauliflower ears all popped and punched
And a face all clumpy like a pigeons foot
Small leather hat and rusty tin cup
Tied with ribbon about his waist
And all this says that his luck as been misplace
As you knock upon his roof he is chased away again
Another broken sleepless night
As he hides away his pain

When you knock three times
Then knock once again
All his aches and woes are multiplied by ten

He picks up his coat and leaves his tiny nest
He just wants to dream
With those who simply dream the best
With their super soft pillows and enchanting lullaby tunes
Sung by fathers, mothers and sisters
Gentle songs which soothe his blisters
And bring forth the sunshine
On his shadowed soul
And fill his heart with grace
Before he retreats back to his hole

And a simple thought crosses you
As you look upon your flour and chalk
And think of all the markings you've made
Over squats and holes and ports
Up the street and pavement long
Now was I right or was I wrong?
You hear the dream thieves' movements
As they slowly scuttle away
And drag their cumbersome bodies
Did they only come to play?