Papery skeletons of age-old trees
moldering in bindings wrinkled well,
the stories written with loving care
trapped within their hard-backed shell.
Adventures waiting beyond the covers
calling forth my restless mind,
I ache to discover their untold stories
when I read the book I plan to bind.
Many say it can't be done,
I've be told give up for sure,
you can't live your life on books alone,
yet I can't escape their wondrous lure.
I intend to reach my goals
and live my life in happy bliss,
an Editor would be my dream
a chance that I would hate to miss.
If I could have just one job
I would read books all day,
following my passion
and proving there's another way.