The library is a wise old lady,
Each book is her memory.
Overshadowed and hazy,
Frequent visitors are her remedy.
Her eyes are mysteriously misty,
Her voice is a hushed whisper,
She sits in a tranquil dream,
So peacefully . . .
Dragons soar scorchingly through her imagination,
Fairies flit enchantingly.
Children murmur happily,
Adults sing soothingly.
At the turn of a page,
Anyone reading a book,
Can be turned into a detective,
Or a princess eating a banquet.
You can jump into the warm, salty sea,
You can fly on the back of a unicorn.
You can participate in bone-chilling adventures,
You can endure hard scoldings with young orphans.
No need for a time machine.
One moment you can be curled up on a rainy day.
The next moment, you could be watching a Shakespeare run play.
Or be flying away,
Far into 2108 . . .
by Zaynab Dalal (10)
Land Of Learning Primary School, Leicester
Competition - Out Of This World
Copyright remains with the author.