cura librorum


the story
May 11, 2011, 01:02
Filed under: Thoughts

Pick up the story, dust gingerly its cover
Strange, yet unseen, but somehow familiar
Knowing unknowing, pictures and patterns
Of life and history, bound ‘twixt people and hours.

These pages that thumbed with absent eye
Nostalgia infilled – what knowledge inscribed?
What love remained? What knight did save?
What lady from whither tower token waved?

Such concoctions they made, such a gander had they
That even the old lady laugh’d the worries away,
You barely could breathe, for the breaths laughter took
And without warning were shocked by the story’s sharp turn.

Bright delight dwelling in each passing word
Winding in forests, all creatures and birds
Did speak tender words to the child to tell
Such whereabouts of secrets and finespun tales.

Do write in such stories, for such stories do hail
From afar, the bright hope of a world that is well
From within, calls young hearts of young years from the aged
And rise uplift once more prayers that still remain.

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