Leather-bound book

with a dusty cover,

bearer of secrets

long forgotten.

Written years ago

by a man

lost to time.

Torn covers and

ratty pages,

but once you open 

your mouth

and begin to speak

I am thrown into a land of

magic 

and wonder.

Like a man dying of thirst 

taking his

first drink at an oasis 

in the middle of a desert,

I become revitalized 

drinking up your

words until I can hold no more.

You are a dragon’s hoard,

filled to the brim with treasures of the mind.

You lift my spirits when I am down

weaving your tales of splendor,

and when you finish

you leave me clamoring for more.

When I realize there is nothing left,

I pick up another.