I have so many books that I sometimes don’t know what to do with them all – I mean I can only read a few at a time and so the rest have to just hang out on their shelves and talk amongst themselves until I can sit them on my knee and hold them in my hands in a warm hug as we enjoy each other’s company.
I feel the tug of wanting to spend time with those books on the shelves but not wanting to miss out on their unique qualities and the stories they have yet to tell. Sometimes books I have read suddenly catch my eye too as I remember the good times we’ve spent together – their often bedraggled state reminding me of the days on the beach, down by the river, sitting on the bus that time I spilt my coffee…oops
So sometimes I like to spend a little moment with these friends. So we made a poem about a train journey. Here goes…*clears throat*
A book poem
Falling leaves on the line often cause a stir
127 hours with no news and time seems to go past in a blur
Is the train still stuck in the yard we wonder? Will we be waiting here for ever?
Should we jump in a taxi or a even lifeboat depending on the weather
When where there be good news we cry? Will there be a nice surprise?
Just what ever you do Train Announcer, just don’t pull the wool over our eyes