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WHAT
THE OLD BOOK SAID
Quick!
rescue me from obscure shelf Where
I have lain for years on end; For
I am tired of dull neglect, And
how my pages need a bend! Good!
you've read my faded title And
hauled me down to gaze on fine Torn
loosened leaves
that
crave repair-- Within
does verbal treasure shine. Come!
heal my wounds with cello tape And
set my broken spine with glue, Let
tender hands relieve each crease And
clean my dusty bindings too! Now!
look what golden hoard of words Are
given you, embodied pure; And
you may glut both eye and mind To heart's content and soul's rapport.
~ Stanley ~
The Author has copyright © of the poems
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