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A book about books is like a poem about poetry:Books are knowledge, paid for, all.Readers – horses in a stall.Stallions should always run.Lest they stale become, in turn.Running waters are most clear.In some books, you disappear –lose yourself, and track of time.How I wish that one was mine…Mine, to have, to write, to read…Mine, just like a flying steed.Mine, forever, – to improve.Would I then, of me, approve?I would not, I can’t… myself.I’m but dust, swept off a shelf.Fly, can I, just ’til I’m settled,down, beside my flower, petalled.
About The Quote
- Approval
- Approve
- Book
- Books
- Botany
- Cleaning
- Disappear
- Disappearance
- Dust
- Flower
- Flowers
- Forgiveness
- Freedom
- Horse
- Horses
- Invisibility
- Invisible
- Losing Yourself
- Nothing
- Owner
- Ownership
- Petal
- Petalled
- Petals
- Poem
- Poems
- Poetry
- Reading
- River
- Rose
- Running
- Shelf
- Stale
- Stall
- Stallion
- Stallions
- Still
- Stillness
- Sweeping
- Water
- Waters
- Writing