I am a reader
of a thousand stories and more
I am a lover
of the familiar scent in treasured hoard
paper and wood, freshly printed ink
I am an admirer
of simple words that tug the heartstring,
of emotions that make the heart sing.

I am a dreamer
of a hundred stories and more
I am a believer
in power of language, languages I adore
in the flow of a song, along with delight
I am a string of unfinished ideas
trains of sidetracked thoughts set alight
a flame that flickers out and rises to new height.

I am a writer
of ten stories but definitely more
I am a creator
of records in glimpses of a bird in soar
and its fall
I am not just a reader nor
just a dreamer or
just a writer
But to give any of these up my dead body you’ll cross over