Bespectacled and tiny,
Playing sports made me whiny,
Growing up I was a runt,
However, regarding my love for libraries I was blunt,
I was an introvert with few friends,
My love for books my parents couldn’t comprehend.
I first read the adventures of the Famous Five,
I joined them on their boat and as they explored castles,
Into a good Nancy Drew book I could dive,
My brain raced ahead as I tried to ascertain the villain,
I read these books so quickly,
It put my parents in the awkward position,
Of asking my little brother to borrow books on my behalf.
Then I grew up and started getting an allowance,
And it allowed me to indulge this prowess,
I bought books from my favourite book store,
And increased the types of worlds that I could explore,
I read Jeffrey Archer, Sophie Kinsella and Dan Brown,
And no genre could add to my face a frown.
Then I went to university and the work load did increase,
Then too I went to the library to escape,
Via the books that I did lease,
These books helped me,
Through heart aches, bad grades and goals I didn’t achieve,
For all I could always find a book to match my mood to a tee.
And now I am an adult about to turn thirty,
And yet my love for books has never done me dirty,
Though I spend less on books now,
As I move and don’t want books to tow,
Yet I use Libby the app,
It lets me borrow books from my library, no cap.
All this is to say that while my thoughts may be jumbled,
My love for prose and poetry is and was clear,
I appreciate my ancestors who committed their thoughts to pen and paper,
So that their descendants may find escape from a world of fear.