"The Reader of Words"
On the wings of printed words I fly,
To yesterday's most magical of places,
So far and so fast only angels would know
Just how I flit through the pages: my sky.
Poetry too can bear me on high, and
Shakespeare, the master, knows how to knit wings.
Once, the world did not seem quite so vast
But Tolkien's tales reopened my sky
And I knew that should I live to be
A thousand, I could never explore it all.
Still, I will fly toward the sun like Icarus
But my wings will never fall to ruin
And if you too have wings, fly with me
For I am the reader of words.