Your warm and supple skin delights my touch,
and the gliding of my fingers up and down your
Spine creates within my rising spirit an awareness
of Heaven’s glory, her gates opening wide to all.
Upon revelation of treasures long hid from me,
I melt inwardly as your trove of precious thoughts Works the wheels of my mind and invests it with
renewed inspiration and fresh resolve.
Your message is no mere dry statement, rife with boring facts,
but, bolder still, an ardent declaration meant for the entire world
To read, to ponder, to act upon. Men and women seek what lies between your covers, though,
at first glance, they may fail to recognize your inherent worth.
Not until you, O cherished Book of books, should fall within
their own opened and eager palms ...
You, O Beauty, are my delight, the very essence of my being....
[Edited reprise]