A Librarian's Prologue

My weeks were set Plans always were met But none of them made by my mind. Though she was kind, My mother was blind To the extent of my forthcoming debt. Taught to always stay near And be filled with fear At the though of going away. “There’s enough here; I know how to rear My own kids, at least for today. “Most men are monsters and all songs are lies. Stay home and strengthen your family ties. You’ve a brother and sisters And a cat with cute whiskers That surpass any old foreign skies.” So I stayed home Spent most time alone While young siblings learned how to spell. In all I could tell, It took only a bell To make a child search for a bone. I read about Pavlov’s dogs And how beavers use logs To build their own little rooms, Which flowers sprout blooms, And birds that sing tunes And how little they differ from frogs. Old broadcasting stations Taught me of nations I’d never heard of before. I could recount every war Or tell stories of lore But that called for terrible patience. My peers thought me shy And always walked by, They left me to work on my own. Teachers saw me alone And sometimes called home, But I think inside they knew why. With books I had freedom; Be in Narnia or Sweden, I always made some kind of fun. When another was done, To the library I’d run And travel to the Garden of Eden. When stuck in a lair Where they make you prepare, I knew simply to bide my time. For I’d be in that line And all thanks to my mind, I knew exactly what to beware. This line led to mysteries, Was full of uncertainties, And rightfully frightened a few. If only they knew What I always knew: To always traverse from your boundaries. This line became a list “Deadlines Not To Be Missed” At this miniscule part of my life. My parents lived in strife At the thought of the price, But in time, I could only persist. College began in the fall And would only revolve Around all of the things I must do. They did nothing new; I hated it, too It only could bring forth my downfall. I was used to committing Enough time in one sitting To master an entire idea. I could have swum to Korea In the time it took to be a Recognized student of knitting. But fortune came through And admitted me to A semester to intern in Bristol. I saw chandeliers of crystal And chances to mingle And all of my dreams coming true. I’d never before Had a chance to explore A world that was different from mine. I spent all my time Learning to assign Cards in the library’s drawer. I worked in a castle Of knowledge and dazzle And finally found myself home, Prepared to disown Any notion of loans, And with college myself disentangle. I asked friends if they agreed But was told to take heed. “Why aren’t you scared? There’s no way you’re prepared. Insanity,” was all they declared. “You have to learn more than you read.” “Spend some time here Then go back for a year. Go finish learning your things. You’ll get your degrees, If you wish, spread your wings, Then return when you want to be near.” I finished my tea In Bristol with glee, Drinking each drop of my stay. I returned in May And was asked to relay The tales of my time overseas. I made myself brief Yet still caused them grief When I told of my plans to drop out. My counselor did pout, My mother did shout, And I breathed a sigh of relief. I finally could see What I wanted to be And not worry about what they would think. “Your future: It’s right down the sink.” But I only thought of reaching the brink By going beyond the sea. I returned to dear Europe But found that honey and syrup Did not belong on my plate. Though I never was late To shelve the king’s books’ estate, I hoped that my fate would clear up. Each day it was harder To act as a martyr For those who sought to fly free. Though I worked with glee, I could only foresee A horrible act of departure. Each day I wanted for food Which impaired my mood And left me in a lurch. The only cost I could purge Was my expense of reserve And my bills that I hoped to elude. My solace was found Very deep in the ground Below books of tales and tunes. Abandoned rooms Relieved my gloom And my life seemed to be brought around. In the library’s basement I stayed With my own little parade Of abandoned shelves of books. I slept in the nooks And often shared looks With shadows my own mind had made. I feared they would find me And act quite unkindly By sending me straight to a jail. Or worse set me to sail With my things in the mail To walk as a shamed returnee. Of course I was seen When they came down to clean My dark hole of a home. I just should have known It was dumb of me to roam I wish they had not been so mean. I cried and I cried But they still thought I lied About wanting to work with their books. I was sent home as a crook Home to menacing looks All I could say was, “I tried.” At home I would study And clean shoes that were muddy Of my siblings still home with my mother. Though I asked for another Chance to recover My name, they thought I was nutty. I stayed in that town Until we almost were grown But these children, I sought to teach. I tried not to preach, But expressed to them each It takes more to be on your own.