When I was a child, my parents gave me books
With pictures, stories, poems, facts- each one worth a look
All the way from heady days when Janet first met John…
(Though long since have I had my doubts they actually got on-
He the Big Adventure and she the frilly sidekick
I wonder why she worshipped him- he clearly was a pr*ck!)
Please pardon my digression- so much to bring to mind
Through I-Spy Books to Annuals, to Disco 45;
From Bible story picture books to examination science
-A sturdy base of knowledge derived with some appliance…
A rainbow of experience from Just So Tales to Shakespeare
(Though Secondary Ed killed that stone dead , I fear).
I grew up with a will to read, a constant curiosity
Perusing junk and stalwart stuff, comics and philosophy:
Even had a darker phase of Existentialism,
A journey of discovery, of challenge and reflection.
The fables and the fairy tales, the fiction and the facts,
If ever I forgot something, I could just look back-
I didn’t need a plug, a battery or cable
Just the will to concentrate and to turn the page when able;
To use the index on a whim to fortify my knowledge,
To study for my school exams and study more for college.
And here I reach the point of my whimsical reflection
-The marvels of The library with all its different sections.
The smell of printed paper, the rustle of the page,
The sharing of excitement, the showing of my age…
The habit hardly broken of carrying a tome
Somewhere on my person if I’m away from home
And how it is I worry for younger generations
Whose daily activity, whose hopes and aspirations,
Are it seems delimited by ‘new technology’
Front-line communication powered electronically.
However will the world revolve should energy deplete
Causing all humanity to hastily retreat
To skills and methods long forgot,
To pencil, paper and glue pot,
To scissors – raw materials-
In search of new creative will?



*a lament for the e-focused way of  things and the incumbent displacement of human contact, particularly among young people.


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