Have Book, Will Travel

I don't believe in Santa. I don't believe in Time Travel either. But last week standing in front of the vintage books at MCC I wondered, just for a moment. I was no longer aware of the room around me, only of books. Books exactly like the ones in the book shelves of my childhood. Ones I would have breathlessly opened, smelling the sweet book glue and turning the thick pages. Such cool, glossy volumes with covers that beckoned. Untold joys awaited me. When thoughts of love turn to books, I think of a poem my Dad has often quoted from, Who Hath A Book, by Wilbur D. Nesbit

Who have a book
Hath friends at hand,

And gold and gear

At his command;

And rich estates,

If he but look,

Are held by him

Who hath a book.

Who hath a book

Hath but to read

And he may be

A king, indeed.

His kingdom is

His inglenook-

All this is his

Who hath a book.