I do not apologize for this “naive” poem I wrote in 1996……came across this when I was cleaning my desk at work. Nothing thrills (or embarrasses) me more than coming across an old piece of writing! This comes across as so cliched and trite (“merry brook”?), but I am still smiling after reading it half an hour ago….
Of books and blurbs
Reading a book is like no other,
Even space travel goes no further
I explore within a single page
The entire earth, Man’s bonded cage.
Books are my passion. My addiction.
A never-ending world of fascination.
To me they represent the best of thought
Of men and things long forgot.
Crime, romance, reality, myth
Filled with love, valor and grit
I ask for no more than a book
And a pillow near a merry brook.
Reading gives me a sense of direction
A cloak of intelligence. An armor of protection.
Ask me to stop and I’ll say, “Sorry, ma’am
You see, I read, therefore, I am”.
Written in Detroit, Michigan – June 11, 1996