Lost in books

For those who are interested, here's a poem in iambic tetrameter!

Lost in Books

At six I was an unformed child,

A tabla rasa, teachers’ sponge,

I read their books voraciously,

From farmland tales, Janet and John,

Until those sets were left behind.

The library became my friend,

The long and tiring walk no trial.

Three beige card tickets were a gift,

A key to worlds unknown to me,

A way to mix with people who

I’d never dare to meet for real;

It hid my shyness, as a swat.

My love of books led to a course

In English Lit at Lancaster,

And words became my raison d’etre.

It took until my sixties ‘til -

Imposter syndrome cast aside -

I gathered poems in one place,

My first in print collection.

At last, my name appeared in print,

Now other readers shared my world.

Everyday Poetry