Papery skeletons of age-old treesmoldering

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.