Under your cover
I find a new world
In which I get lost
And see a story unfold.
Page by page.
Line by line.
My imagination soars
Into a world besides mine.
My book, my story,
My wonderful novel,
You set my mind free
To wonder and marvel.
You come in many forms:
Fantasy, fact, and fiction.
Drawing readers in
Feeding their addiction.
You’ve been around for many years
And for many more you’ll stay.
For books tell a story of the mind,
Letting authors express what they can’t say.
Your words flow together
Like water in a stream.
Flow as smooth as glass,
Sometimes heavenly, so it seems.
You speak to me
Though messages you send.
The only bad thing is,
Like always, there’s “The End”.