In an era of tabs, laptops and smartphones
I am a forgotten book
with my spine flat
pages pressed together
'lone I sit to sing my ballad
lying on the shelf crooning within
longing to be loved and caressed
by the hands of a fair lady or a gentleman
a curious lad or a lass
who can see through my gossamer pages
Oh I doth yearn to be a dandelion seed
kissed by a breeze
blown away to the faraway lands
from a room musky and begrimed
summer melts into autumn and winter chill
like a sleeping beauty
I await and long
for my Prince charming
to kiss me, to read me.
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