Books as Magnets–The Pull of a Good Story

Children safe, stomach full,
I sit here, comfortable,
In good health and
In one emotional and
Physical piece.

I don’t have much
Paid work this week
Which makes me anxious
But I am still alright and
Am definitely OK.

So, tonight, alone,
I dive back into
An old favorite book,
Rebecca, by Daphne Du Maurier.

A plethora of quality,
Unread books await me, I realize,
I am still waiting for the
Next Game of Thrones book
With baited breath.

But there is cozy solace
In settling into a favorite book
With twisting plot lines
And characters that,
Like magnets,
Pull and draw me
Into a majestic, bygone
Old world filled with rich
Descriptions and gothic suspense.

Life can feel strangled,
Pinched, punched, like
Prolonged agony at points
Making the prospect of
“Going on” feel challenging
For squared off pegs like me.

So sometiems I just
Want to curl up in a
Quiet and cool place,
A tortoise taking refuge
Inside its shell,
To be held in the arms
Of an author’s storytelling.



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