The Power of Reading as a Child

A child's wanderings in the world of literature and the freedom that words can offer.

A small child, opened her eyes wide
as she witnessed a creature nearby,
it was brilliant, multiples of colours,
a body that morphed with time.

She urged to hold it,
she needed one like it.

It rustled in the wind,
yet beckoned her curiosity.
She slowly pulled,
stretched,
fought,
to break from her little box.

The creature, docile and waiting,
sat like a portal,
a door to elsewhere,
for the child to enter.

She picked up the waiting being,
and gasped with surprise,
for what she found was extraordinary.

Words,
words,
multitudes of words.
Small, large, heavy, light, dark, bright words.

The child, being free,
Held the book to her little heart,
and turned her back
on the society that condoned media.

She was now an adventurer.
And she did it without movies or T.V. 

The End

1 comment about this poem Feed