Wake The Books Poem by Sophia White

Wake The Books



O! The never-ending books! End on end,
Marching like a mass of scholars
Still the stacks get taller – taller!
Down the wall, up the hall,
I can never reach them all!
Into a fuzzy haze they blend.
Hundreds – thousands – millions more!
Cover to cover, spine to spine,
Endless rows and endless lines
Bottom to top, they never stop,
Stacked up to a dizzying drop
From the ceiling down to the floor.
Words of wisdom, lines of wit,
Every thought ever thought by man
Stretching by the mile – the span!
Some books wise, some just lies,
Some with ends full of surprise.
Every word that ever was writ.
O! I want to read them all! Every one!
But my hands can’t even brush
Each cover in a full year once.
How can I, with one lifetime,
Even aspire to hope to try?
One row down and my sand’s run!
O! The never-ending books! How I look!
Sleeping, needing only hands
To open them, release their lands.
Would that I! Would that I
Could let them fly!
Would that I could wake the books!

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