A memory of books

When I was a young girl
I had a secret reading cove
up in the attic, soft feather
mattresses and a blanket
I lay, hidden behind faded
yellow curtains, it was perfect

To get there, I pulled the ladder,
down in quiet secret, tiptoed up,
balancing books and retracted ladder
silently back in its place,
then I sneaked behind the curtains
into my own little world

In those books I discovered lands,
places of dreams, I vowed to travel
to Never Never Land, the jungle, a
train station in London, the wood
of hundred acres where he lived,
my favorite character of all: Pooh

I have a bear that looks like him,
sitting in my office, always smiling
I still adore him to this day, my Bear
One time, I got to cuddle Pooh bear
We were in Disneyland, years ago
I felt like my child self when we hugged

Now I am much older, I don’t
devour books like I did as a kid
but when I see my childhood books,
I remember my secret hiding place
and how I felt reading them
Finding sheer joy in reading books

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