I push open the door
And waltz inside,
Taking confident strides.
Observe with sparkling eyes
As I start across the floor.

Such a grand place; where to begin?
A librarian works nearby.
At tables, toddlers sit, oh-so shy.
Mahogany bookcases stretch to the sky,
Concealing many worlds within.

Select books from each section, that’s what I should try.
I ponder before choosing.
Crossed my face, a look of confusion.
I really ought to be cruising
Through these shelves that hold truths and lies.

I come across a horror series
Of zombies that rot,
A haunted parking lot,
A ghost-once-human perished from a shot,
And everything else eerie.

I hop down a shelf; fantasy is next.
Books of a valiant dragon rider,
A giant’s enchanted cider,
Dainty pixies that tame spiders,
And spiteful villains being hexed.

Then a fast-paced adventure trilogy:
Heroes and heroines slashing through ferns,
Danger waiting to pounce at every turn,
Useful survival tips to learn,
Treacherous sails through the Caspian Sea.

Other than these I uncover much more:
A tale of unrequited love,
A mystery of a long-lost glove,
A fable about a mourning dove
A retelling of the French and Indian War.

So many choices, but which for tonight?
The fantasies?
The trilogies?
The series?
Or will one of the others be right?

In utter frustration, I bang my head to the wall.
An idea flies in.
I grab the books with a grin.
The weight of them makes me cringe,
And yes, I do take them all.

To the librarian, I migrate, and to her I say,
“I’d like to borrow all these today.”