House Of Books (For Lyn) Poem by Dónall Dempsey

It's...quiet.

But...not a natural
normal quiet.

It's the sound
of the hush

that suggests

Tilly is up to something

...no good!

I search the silence
dig further into the quiet

to discover her
(all frills & curls)

ensconced in a house
of books

eminently pleased
with her sterling efforts.

All books have been
commandeered from the shelves

hunted down
from 'round the rooms

press ganged
into service

all encompassing encyclopaedias
great big bloody dictionaries
heavy art tomes

the collected works of the Greats

go to create
the sturdy outer walls

whilst slight volumes of poetry
thatch its roof.

It is quite
and engineering feat

akin to the building
of a great Pyramid.

I feel like
the Big Bad Wolf

who could huff & puff &
blow my little piglette's

House of Books
a w a y!

But, instead

I just about manage to
squeeze inside

us two sitting side by side

as she reads me
(from an upside down contents page)

a fairy story
of her own

devising

I, listening intently
...smiling.