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Too Many Books

  • Writer: Week Night Wine Drunk
    Week Night Wine Drunk
  • Aug 6, 2023
  • 1 min read

I used to ride past a house almost every afternoon (when cycling was my workout of choice) The front door was always open and they had the biggest book shelf jam packed with books from floor to ceiling.


There is a house, upon a hill

With books up past the window sill

With far too many on every shelf

An unknown world unto itself

Dusty books with yellowed page

Spines that crack and creak with age

Books of heroes, of love, of war

A secret key to a secret door

Their pages hold a history

A place of magic, and mystery

A haven for the curious mind

To leave the dull grey world behind

Walls lined with tales between book covers

Tales of goblins, dragons and lovers

Where wizards cast their magic spells

And the sound of wedding bells

Means a journey waits in every one

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