The Need To Know Poem by Mary Champion

My Dad, he had a head packed full of stories -
of travels, trials and an Empire's glories,
details about animals; facts about plants;
intriguing acquaintances he'd met by chance.
My greatest delight was to climb on his knee,
and listen, entranced, to the things he told me.
I asked for my favourites time and again,
yet never got bored. Felt the thrill, just the same.
But some days I found it was so hard to choose,
which of his tales would most excite or amuse.
Too young to define the response I should give,
the quest underpinning the reason I live,
not, 'Please feed my hungry mind, and help it grow.'
but, 'Just tell me something that I do not know.'