Truest love, ever near, from my spring till winter.
Your warm, supple skin is sheer delight to my touch.
Gliding fingers up and down your spine tell me
That, truly, Heaven’s gates have opened to me.
Treasures long hid from me cause my heart to
Melt as your trove of precious thoughts works
The wheels of my mind, inspiring and feeding it.
Your message is not a useless tale but an ardent declaration
Meant for people of the world to read, to ponder, to act upon.
Men and women seek what lies between your covers, though,
At first glance, they may not recognize your inherent worth.
Not until you, O cherished Book of books, reveal what you
Offer to mankind's newly opened eyes and waiting hearts.
You are my delight, the essence of my being, my will to live.