A book is like a
lighthouse, upon a ragged rock
It shines the wisdom-beam, it hides within it
Which though it really cannot
speak a word
Never was a message more
timely heard; but
It has no
knowledge of that heart it warns
Desiring only its
destined end to bless it
Poem from a Sequence:
A Rain of Booklight
Part 1 # 15
Part 1 # 15
(c) Judith Evans Deverell, 2014
The Bookmark Project
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