Sunday, December 29, 2013

Poetic Bloomings Books

My Dream

I used to dream of rows of books.
I loved libraries’ smells and looks.
When I was young, I’d plot and scheme.
Of rows of books, I used to dream.

To own a book, oh, such a treat!
A gift like that could not be beat.
You’d catch me reading in a nook.
Oh, such a treat, to own a book!

As years passed, my collection grew.
My bookish dream was coming true.
I needed space as they amassed.
My collection grew, as years passed.

My dream approached, when my kids moved.
For shelves of books I had more room.
But other guests, the place encroached.
When my kids moved, my dream approached.

One Christmas day, I got a gift.
It’s very light, easy to lift.
Alas, my dream, it went away!
I got a gift one Christmas day.

It could be worse, do not be sad.
The Kindle’s made me very glad,
Because my dream fits in my purse!
Don’t be sad, it could be worse.

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