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Dear Books

I find a better dear in blue oceans
That love and like the ebb, the toes and blows
Of that small sea, on some more ablutions,
On this old honour, that will then appose.

My better friend shall mingle more or less,
The same disease alerts us this real day;
Man writes, confesses on the very chess
That saddens ours, then maddens those astray.

When findings match the real man tomorrow,
This treasure sees those golden values right,
A fellow writes for those who read although
The books say leather-hard, by candlelight.

I obviously sign the books with pride,
Much waits, much has the plates of this old bride.

poem by Naveed Akram
Added by Poetry Lover
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