The Bookworm (Georg Schafer), Sonnet #558

 

He bought his first book at the age of five,

The story of medieval warfare.

Another world came vividly alive.

A kin of dragons emerged from its lair,

An ancient and omnivorous wyrm

Penetrated the boy through his pupils

And thusly he began to read and learn

Of all the world’s glories and its ills.

Seventy years later his library

Lines every wall in his home’s every room.

There are books of inexorable doom,

A room devoted to lore of faery,

Even a shelf of books penned with a quill.

He hasn’t read them all and never will.

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