Here you will find the Poem The Candle of poet Katherine Mansfield
By my bed, on a little round table The Grandmother placed a candle. She gave me three kisses telling me they were three dreams And tucked me in just where I loved being tucked. Then she went out of the room and the door was shut. I lay still, waiting for my three dreams to talk; But they were silent. Suddenly I remember giving her three kisses back. Perhaps, by mistake, I had given my three little dreams I sat up in bed. The room grew big, oh, bigger far than a church. The wardrobe, quite by itself, as big as a house. And the jug on the washstand smiled at me: It was not a friendly smile. I looked at the basket-chair where my clothes lay folded: The chair gave a creak as though it were listening for something. Perhaps it was coming alive and going to dress in my clothes. But the awful thing was the window: I could not think what was outside. No tree to be seen, I was sure, No nice little plant or friendly pebbly path. Why did she pull the blind down every night? It was better to know. I crunched my teeth and crept out of bed, I peeped through a slit of the blind. There was nothing at all to be seen. But hundreds of friendly candles all over the sky In remembrance of frightened children. I went back to bed... The three dreams started singing a little song.