At nap time all my shades are drawn
Because when sunshine on our lawn
Falls much too quiet, then the bees
Buzzing around our apple trees
May not be bees at all, but Things
That hurt you worse than bites and stings,
They might be little dragons even,
Or small bad angels out of heaven.

Of course, not everything would go
Out where sunshine glistens so,
Not everything—but Things would dare!
I’ve seen them drifting in the air
Dancing like feathers across our lawn.
That’s why my window shades are drawn!
I hear them whirr and fly and creep
And whisper—till I fall asleep.