I tried to write something happy, and here it is. A poem about books, one of my obsessions. Does my poetry suck? I haven’t had a lot of experience with it.

R/R tell me what you think

A Galaxy Encased in Paper

The books sit on their shelf

In the pages is life

Each contains its won universe

A gallery of complex stars and spider webs

Woven and tangled together

To create being through words

The bright colors of the flimsy cover

Heed no notice to what lies inside

Unlike me

Inside is a story created

Within the pages of eternity

The world is held captive

Between the books’ cover

It sucks you in

Your galaxy fuses with its own

What you find is truth



A substitute for your problems

Found in fiction’s own