What contents have thee?
Pirate’s gold from beneath the sea?
Are you in yourself a treasure untold?
A prize of fabled heroes bold?
Or of the misty dreams of old?
A thing of shadowed memories?
Or perhaps you will not tell?
Must I dwell in my curiosity?
So alien is your litany of glories,
You must keep some fearsome stories!
Like the summer wind,
You tell of far away lands,
From under the moon’s silvery arc,
And beyond the sunset gathering gray,
Of waters dire and forests dark,
Of adventurers who will never tire,
In their battles of rage and fire!
Will you not tell me that which I implore?
Must I be forced to open thee?
Yes, I will entice my curiosity.
© 2004 Danilo Quddus Stern-Sapad.
0 Responses to “Ode on a Book”