Devouring a Book
My book lays open by the fire,
as evening stretch and yawn again
below my shoulder whispers flow,
through white lace curtains then through rain--
To somewhere near, yet far away,
where unsung heroes touch the day
Where eyes hold lines and understand,
in such a perfect natural way.
That sometimes stories write themselves
before they feel the need to live,
and sometimes awe is realized
so much to feel, so much to give.
Before the pages turn once more
through white lace curtains, through the hall
and mystery bleeds in my eyes
where fire throws shadow on the wall.
So I read on, the smoke serpents
reel about my dream -dressed face,
And verses paint beautifully
their texture igniting a place--
while nights turn minutes like old age
and tired fire dragons droop and creep
between the edges of a page.
As morning sun-rays slowly weep
in a corner of inner gloom,
of bracelet jingling waking shade
that I awake and around the room,
oblivious of a timed noise
I give a shrill and tremble on;
upon chapters to writhe inside
and gulp a book, forgetting dawn.
Jamie's interesting contest 1
Theme: The feeling of getting lost in a book
Feb 20, 2017
Copyright © Manny Paras | Year Posted 2017