I sit and open this marvelous book.

I open the pages and take a quick look.

Dragons, and castles, dogs with three heads,

Children in orphanages alone without beds

I flip to the next page just for a peek,

But what I see makes me keep in my seat.

A vampire, is it real? A werewolf with fur?

What I think is not here, what I see isn’t sure.

I stare at the pictures and smile with greed

It’s only a picture book, how long can it be?

I flip to the next and laugh at it so,

A giant goblin eating up snow.

How strange this book is, to show what’s not true.

How the sky in here is orange, not our regular blue.

When I flip to the next page, there isn’t much left.

Just a spider who seems like she never had slept.

I flip to the next page, fin it is now.

I look to the next book, but see only a cow.

I stare at the cover of this marvelous book,

What would it be to take only a look?

It’s just paper, and ink, not much to it though.

But how come while I hold, I won’t ever let go?

When it comes time for bed, I hold it tight.

For some reason, it seems, this book may take flight.