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Author has written 4 stories for Fairy Tales.
If perchance we should happen to meet
Crossing the street one particular sunny morning
And should we smile at each other
Then maybe I would invite you into my home
Up the stairs we would climb, up and up and up
Until we reached the library that is my conscience
And miles high book shelves would stretch
Filled with my thoughts, bound in leather and cloth
Should you scan those shelves which are so dear to me
You may find titles such as Love and Hate,
Happiness and Sadness, Jealousy and Kindness,
Whereupon you would probably proclaim in a loud voice
‘These books have no meaning!’
And I should have to disagree with you,
And with determination I would lead you
Up the stairs, up and up and up
Until we reached the top of the book shelf
And then I would show you books filled with pictures
Pictures of my thoughts, dreams and visions
Perchance you may find a book filled with pictures of people-
A modern day girl stuck in a fantasy world.
A god who cares for no one and everyone-
Waves of the sea roaring as his heart is unlocked.
A girl dancing in the air in the middle of the night
As she struggles to solve a bloody mystery,
A blue eyed girl with a flame at her fingertips.
‘These are meaningful, are they not?’ I would ask,
And if you should still disagree with me
And should you argue that these books have no significance
Then I would say that perhaps you are right:
Thoughts, feelings, dreams and vision are less meaningful
When they are written down on paper.
But somehow they all make sense in my mind
And for you I do my best to write them down, to explain
It is not an easy task.
And so I give you one book, one precious thought, as a gift
Down the stairs we would descend, down and down and down
Until we reached the bottom of the shelf
And with a polite bow and a small, sad smile
You leave my home, my book clutched tight under your arm
And should you decide to look at this book
You should find a few simple words penned within:
‘To love is to know
To seek is to find
To imagine is to create.’
Perhaps these words will make no sense to you,
For they barely make sense to me, even as I write them down
But perhaps you may understand
That every thought, every dream, every word, every vision, every action
Even such a small gesture
As two strangers smiling at each other
While crossing the road on a particular sunny morning.
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