My Poem ‘The Book People’

Every book lover
has their favourite author;
every literary enthusiast
has their favourite book;
every storyteller,
every story reader,
knows that books
are really secret doors;
everyone with an imagination
can go on a journey
and cherish every word,
as if they had never read
a single sentence before.

I love hearing people say:
“oh my god, I love this book!” –
especially from the mouths of the young;
I always smile when I see
a fellow fan of an author
and a book that I love.
Stories have the power
to make you feel something amazing,
to greater depth and effect
sometimes than a song;
there are tales and characters
that shine for me and show me
the way to somewhere I have been looking for –
like the stars that shimmer like glitter
in the dark sky above.

A library is like a gold-mine of riches;
a bookstore is like a fountain of wishes;
a mind is a place where stories become a part of us;
a network of like-minded people is absolutely wondrous;
communication is the best way to feel free and boundless;
language is the supreme method
to teach someone about themselves;
sharing your dreams can inspire the dreams
and the imagination of countless generations;
the world that you live in with everyone else
is full of art that is truly timeless.

Books are meant to be opened and read,
and books are meant to share your life with you,
and they are meant to change as they live their own life –
being carried from place to place
and being held by person to person;
every book and every story, to me, is a limited edition;
any and every book has words and worlds within
that are uniquely special;
everybody has their own attractive qualities,
but to me their is no greater gift and attribute,
and no greater example of enlightened character,
than to be one of the millions of people,
of all ages all around the world,
who happily count themselves
as one of “The Book People”.

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My Poem ‘Sputnik’

It’s six o’clock at night,
on a cool spring evening,
and I am looking out my window to the sky
at a beautiful gold and blue light,
watching the sun setting –
and the sight of it takes my breath away;
and within seconds,
I watch the sky go from red to grey,
as all that I see becomes draped
in the dark veil of twilight.

I watch the stars appear;
I see the planets rise;
I see the ultimate display of the constellations,
and I name them one by one, as I imagine them;
and then, when I see the constellation of Orion,
I am awestruck by how wonderfully its stars
shine so clear, and my entire vision
is that of an infinite number of stars in my eyes.

I spent my day taking in nature,
listening to the world around me,
being captivated by birdsong,
and watching the building of bird-nests
in the branches of the trees above,
and in the hedges of the ground below;
I spent my day believing that I knew
all in life that I could ever need to know.

Right this second, I feel like a satellite;
right at this moment, I feel like I am alone in space,
and no one even knows I am here –
because I am just a faint moving white dot in the dark sky;
right now, I feel so far away –
like a distant flickering candle
in the window of a cottage atop a hill;
and barely noticeable –
like a star of the night;
now, I look down,
and around at everyone else on Earth,
and I see what I can of their lives:
I see true happiness,
and I wonder what that feels like.

I look up at the moon;
I gaze up at the stars;
I see the heavens –
the place from where we all came from,
and I dream that I may return there soon;
I imagine that I can reach up and touch the sky,
because in the dark the void of space
does not seem that far.

Every human being has looked above
on a star-lit night, and wondered:
are we alone in the universe?
And, is anybody else out there?
I have asked myself that very question,
and I know the definitive answer –
and I speak that answer aloud every night.

Everybody sometimes goes into their own
“hibernation mode”, in which they appear
to leave their worries in another place somewhere;
I have always found it difficult
to remove myself from the world,
and not think about what is always on my mind;
some days I wish I could be a living, breathing,
astronaut floating in space –
or a part of Earth, circling the planet,
like the very first satellite: Sputnik.

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My Poem ‘The Light Fantastic’

The world is dark at night;
when there are clouds above
everything can seem grey;
within peoples’ heart’s
there is always light;
stars shining constantly
reveal more to life, more to us,
more than the sun of a spring day.

Every day I look far,
and hope appears;
every day I see patterns of stars,
and my imagination jumps light-years;
every day I look for a fire to sit in front of
and gaze longingly at,
and I witness the birth of a new spark;
every day I realize I have something
that some might say: ‘I would give anything for that’,
and for good, or ill, I get a sense
as to how I have lived, how I live, how I make my mark,
how I have given my heart right from the start.

Bridges are built every day;
most of us have the gift of choice;
technology has paved a new way;
everybody is now discovering that they have always had a voice;
people are learning more;
everybody is becoming savvy in multiple ways of interactivity;
people are talking to each other like never before;
we all feel, sometimes, as if we have backstage passes,
when we can see and reach out to people we idolize –
like a well-known artist or celebrity.

We can all literally find ourselves
with stars in our eyes anytime we want;
we can all take a trip to anywhere;
we can all feel triumphant
when we see the fruits of our commitment,
we can all go to the places where angels and demons
no longer fear to tread;
we can all make dreams real and tangible;
we can all be romantic, pragmatic,
dynamic, classic, terrific, or act wonderfully melodramatic;
we can all be radical, casual, natural, fanciful;
we can all be the one who searches for, lives for,
has, and is, what makes the light of life fantastic.