A Nook, a Storybook
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In the attic of my childhood home was a nook,
And there was a lovely window where sun poured in;
I just loved to hideout there all the afternoon,
There was a sweet thrill for the story to begin.
I started off reading books like Cinderella,
And I loved the story of Beauty and the Beast;
Treasure Island, Robinson Caruso, Robin Hood,
Lost in the story- but never a page I creased.
My mother and grandma knew where to find me,
Sometimes fast asleep in my nook holding a story;
Soon I was reading, Of Mice and Men, The Hobbit,
Gone With the Wind, now that was like purgatory.
"Frankly my dear, I don't give a dam!" my gosh,
I adored Rett Butler, oh he made me dreamy;
Romance was now my thing, I could not wait for the nook,
I got books second hand and some were steamy.
Then I changed, I wanted to read about real things,
I read Biographies of people in my sunny nook;
Nature and poetry books to me were so fascinating,
But I threw in a mystery or horror book.
Well that nook is gone, in fact even the house,
But in my nest, I have a special place to read and be;
Beside a sunny window cozy with many pillows,
I love when I can be alone there with just me.
_____________________________________
April 17, 2016
Poetry/Quatrain/A Book, A Storybook
Copyright Protected, ID 16-778-875-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, What I Wouldn't Give For A Nook and a Storybook,
sponsor, Eve Roper
Second Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2016
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