They were in my mind,
They were in my my heart.
I had them in my soul.
They played out in my life's role.
No matter which book I yesterday read,
On so many paths it lead.
'How can all these words,
Be about me, '
The book was all about me,
But it was all about you,
T'was all about everyone,
It was about everything.
It was a book.
The words of an author.
Words from many authors,
Books different from each other.
Words of now.
Words of eternity.
Words that did allow.
Words with no permission.
Words without submission.
Pretty books that I ever saw
Yes, I was lucky to have them.
Vera Sidhwa's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Books by Vera Sidhwa )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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(4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926)
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(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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