Books, oh books, the treasures untold,
Stories of love, battles and gold.
In their pages, adventures await,
Taking us to lands far and great.
Lost in thought, we turn each page,
With each chapter, a new age.
The written words, a spell they cast,
Taking us to the past or fast.
They bring us laughter, tears and joy,
Teaching us to be brave, kind and coy.
With books, we never have to roam,
For they bring the world right to our home.
So let us cherish these works of art,
For they fill our hearts with love and light.
Oh books, we are grateful for thee,
For you are the key to set our minds free.
About the Creator
Nedelcu Alina
Life’s short, eat the cake 🍰
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More stories from Nedelcu Alina and writers in Poets and other communities.
Field of the Fallen
Sunlight danced softly across the frost-crusted fields, making the little blades of grass sparkle like emeralds. The faraway chirrup of a songbird was the only disruption to the quiet of the morning. An icy chill, the last vestige of the dying winter, clung to the air, settling in a thick white mist at the far side of the open field. The heavy stench of decay hung in that mist, punctuation by the sharp tang of freshly spilled blood.
By A. J. Schoenfeld7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Books reading is my regular habit