Books are an essence
of our mental life which we grew
through the cultivation of time
So look after them like own children
or else our progeny will miss life
Books do not believe in chauvinism
they travel across the boundaries of nations, race,
genders and languages to befriend you and me
Don't confine them in parochial cells of individualism
Books are an eternal estate of humankind
they enrich the poverty of our rusted mind
they fill us ceaselessly with new fervors
Please, preserve books for the children
in the world.
Books flout the trodden trail
and take the road forbidden by mores
at times, they raise the banner of rebel
against the ablest monarch. Books symbolize
intrepidity, which we have lost in toadyism.
Books are our dispassionate friends
which never speak untrue like human beings
they earn us honors, awards and prizes
and add to our credit selflessly.
Books are our true liberators
which snap trammels of our ignorance
they raise our spirits up to fight against
Books are a soothing solace
to our sensations seared in seclusion
they heal wounds inflicted on
by our dear ones.
Books are the only doorway
which lead us into ourselves
and reveal the unrevealed
in our mortal frames.
Books are most efficacious medicines
They cure incomparable ailments
and keep us healthy in unhealthy climes.
when you stir out of home,
carry at least a book with you.
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Comments about this poem (Come In My Dream by Madhav Sarkunde )
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