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Where Stories Become Souls *** In the corner, where shadows softly play, A girl sits, wrapped in the tender sway. Her books of poetry, life’s sweet lore, Each word a key to an unseen door. The sun dips low, its golden rays, Lighting realms of dreams anew. Adventures etched in ink and rhyme, Stretching far beyond the bounds of time. She reads of seas that glitter and roar, Of mountains kissed by clouds galore. Her heart leaps with the falcon’s flight, Her soul finds solace in the starlit night. A stanza hums of love’s embrace, Another paints fate’s fleeting trace. Each poem a bridge, both firm and thin, From where she’s been to where she’ll begin. Her eyes alight, a beacon’s flame, In every story, she carves her name. Binding her spirit to tales untold, To truths of fire, to dreams of pure gold. The books breathe life, they softly sing, Of daring quests and hope’s gentle spring. Between the pages, she finds her place, A realm of wonder, an endless space. Still, she reads, as twilight bends, A journey that neither starts nor ends. Immersed in poetry and life’s sweet spins, The girl becomes the story within.
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5d ago
May 30, 2026 at 3:39 AM UTC
Whispers Between Pages (Rewritten)
Where Stories Become Souls *** In the corner, where shadows softly play, A girl sits, wrapped in the tender sway. Her books of poetry, life’s sweet lore, Each word a key to an unseen door. The sun dips low, its golden rays, Lighting realms of dreams anew. Adventures etched in ink and rhyme, Stretching far beyond the bounds of time. She reads of seas that glitter and roar, Of mountains kissed by clouds galore. Her heart leaps with the falcon’s flight, Her soul finds solace in the starlit night. A stanza hums of love’s embrace, Another paints fate’s fleeting trace. Each poem a bridge, both firm and thin, From where she’s been to where she’ll begin. Her eyes alight, a beacon’s flame, In every story, she carves her name. Binding her spirit to tales untold, To truths of fire, to dreams of pure gold. The books breathe life, they softly sing, Of daring quests and hope’s gentle spring. Between the pages, she finds her place, A realm of wonder, an endless space. Still, she reads, as twilight bends, A journey that neither starts nor ends. Immersed in poetry and life’s sweet spins, The girl becomes the story within.
I wrote this poem as a quiet look on the way books shape us. Poetry and stories are never just words on paper — they become companions, doorways, and mirrors of who we are becoming. This piece captures that timeless moment of losing yourself within a page.
LongJohnPaulBaldry
Written by
71/M/Saltcoats - Scotland
5d ago
May 30, 2026 at 3:39 AM UTC
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