“ On The Shelf ” ~ a place of rest ~

 

I feel a book

Less than a tome,

Where I abide

Held be my home,                                                               

There on a shelf

I am to dwell,

Alphabetized

In a near hell,

Tucked in a space

For easy trace,

If one’s to find

My aging face,

That I myself

Find hard to place,

As time has stolen

Most recall,

I must rely

On passers-by

To so point out,

‘Tis I so perched

Now on the shelf,

Held thus too soon

Suffer a place of rest!

 

Advertisements