Confessions of a Bibiliophile ~

They dance you see,

Oh! How I wish you saw.

They sing out loud;

Paint pictures so clear

as if the sky was their canvas.

And I a happy wanderer,

imaginatively discover

the beauty of such wonder.

Each word, each line,

sentences upon paragraphs

so divine.

One commits the crime

of self indulgence,

voraciously accessing

never to stop.

Why stop? Why ever?

Such a fate is too cruel

to take such luxuries away;

Ah! I would walk miles if it lead to enlightenment.

My camp of concentration

Is a soft spot,

good lighting,

and I am set.

Ready to fly

ready to run

ready to cry

ready for fun.

And i never even leave my bed.

Go to fancy balls,

dance with strangers tall,

have my heart break,

find romance on a sunny day.

Talk of physics and meta.

Jump across bridges

and land on the south of France.

All in my spot

with a good pot

of coffee brewing,

and a soul wondering

Where do I go today?

In a musty old page

the words take me away.



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