Books and copybooks
Nor the tools of crooks
Nor the wants of adders
Rather, the blissful gears of lovers!
Pens and pencils play on the words
Read and spoken are those of William
Thriller they are than those holding swords
Sweeter they turn out to be on the anagram!
Stories and poems sealed in perfumed pages
Made immortal throughout the running ages
Meant to be shared for a laugh or for a smile
Why not even a few tears once in a while?
Articles and reports, coming in all sorts
Some tending to the weather, some to the news
Written as plain texts to which we resort
When in ignorance we don't wish to be screwed!
Writers, Poets, Editors, Columnists
Reporters, Critics, Journalists,
What would be the essence of reading?
Without your laud words so addicting!
On this marvelous day, the Book becomes Queen
Revered She is, with Her words always so serene
On this marvelous day, let us pay Her our respect
Us, mere little subjects, in search of Her intellect!
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