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She Who Reads
A gift is given to another's heart
 As soon as words are spoken and read to
 Her so they might seem as a wind blown dart
 And love for the books and words say not "Shoo."
 
 Endless pages flow at her touch
 Letters scrawled in dark black and deep blue ink
 Words or differing legnth can seem too much
 And flittling pens flick ink on coats of mink.
 
 Long dark hair pushed back so impatiently,
 Bright brown eyes downward on leather bound book
 No one so competely intent as she
 As she sits in the same cozy chaired nook.
 
 In a grand library she seems to live
 And with each book read, more knowledge they give.

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Favorite Quote:
A room without a book is like a body without a soul.
I will definately look at your stuff.
I'm glad you like! Very, very glad!