I asked myself, ‘Graeme, What is a book?’
I found a dictionary, took a look,
and under ‘b’ there were a plethora of words:
butterflies, broomsticks, bees, and birds,
and so on;
looking carefully, I found the word, ‘book’,
and in great detail it explained to me:
‘A book is more than life, you see;
without a book, what could you read?’
And, on this point, I most heartily agreed.
‘A book is stories old and new,
some made up, some almost true;
a book is there to make you think,
you read a book, and then you blink,
in wonder’s wide and amazements hue,
in such disbelief, and often fear.’
‘What is a book? I asked myself.
I picked up another book,
to took a look.