A book is like a festive feast, its contents rich
Its fare substantial, there for me to reap;
Though of itself it cannot gauge or know its reach
It gains the mind it nourishes which finds it food
Teaching the searching heart that in it seeks to flourish
Poem from a Sequence:
A Rain of Booklight
Part 1 # 13
Part 1 # 13
(c) Judith Evans Deverell, 2014
The Bookmark Project
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