The Bookworm Poem by Lenore Lee

This alien land is made of paper
Its pages stay firmly stuck together
Until this foreign creature slides them apart
She ruins their land like she has no heart

In these pages there are symbols
For the educated, they are tools
At a fast pace, the creature drinks them down
It was amazing that she didn’t drown

The symbols tell a story, only the creature knows
In them she escapes all of her foes
It is joyful to roll in the words
To fly through them just like birds

She squiggles on her stomach,
The world only sees her back
She enjoys being so low down
The story will never make her frown

In the narrative she worms
In its pleasure she squirms
In the fiction words she’s lain
The bookworm is back again