A Book is like a Skillful Archer

A book is like a skillful archer 

Straight aiming a certain central message

As an arrow swift to seek its target

Dispatched from an inner taut stringed bow 

In hope to see its bull's-eye in a reader; but

Can an arrow find a way through a forest

Unless it first come from a pure aimed bow?

Can it strike my heart its own needed blow

Unless it first has stricken he who sent it? 

Light and life come only out of dark and death

Poem from a Sequence:

A Rain of Booklight

Part 1  # 37

© Judith Evans Deverell, 2014

The Bookmark Project

A Book is like a Golden Circlet

A book is like a golden circlet . . . 

   round my head it lays its story firm

A protective halo, for awhile:

   it takes me deep away

Takes this mind it captivates 

   to an inner world, 

A sanctuary hid from pressing ills, 

   in outside forms of life; 

A surrogate life, till I rise up again, 

Take responsibilities reins,

   live life better for having left it awhile 

         

   

Poem from a Sequence:

A Rain of Booklight
Part 1  # 28

© Judith Evans Deverell, 2014

The Bookmark Project