(20 minute poetry)

Light reading for dark days and piping hot soup for the cold.

In a book of adventure
I cross raging rivers and battle the elements,
I read a quire or more pages as the storm rises and rages and the hero within me fights along with the hero without.

Prospects of gold,
prospectors of old have such wonderful stories to tell.

Every toll of the bell,
one more tale casts a spell and I'm there on the high seas as quick as you please.

But the westerns are the best ones,
Billy and Jesse,
Wyatt and Doc
the Daltons on the
Skimmerhorn all wait to be
reborn
on the pages
I read.