Library Poem by Edwin Hopper

She said “I know you’ve a book of your own.
You can still go visit the library.”
Then, she must be offering me a loan.
She’s nice, so it won’t take bribery.

I gently take precious, down from the shelf.
Hold it firmly, the cover, and open.
Is this an author who’s true to herself?
Who won’t share the secrets we’ve spoken?

It’s alive with magic and pleasure.
Full of unknown theories and queries,
holding promise of infinite treasure.
Will she make all this wonder a series?

It’s over, Close cover. Back, gently, on shelf.
World has changed. I’m no longer myself.