Lost In a Literary Reverie

Though expectations can collapse
you can so often tell a book
by its cover, if not its widespread coverage.
The comfort and anticipation of
hefting a voluminous promise inherent
in the prospect of another reading
opportunity to open the mind
introduce the reader to new concepts
words cleverly manipulated to convey
meaning hitherto never suspected.

The awe felt at the storytelling prowess
of some minds drenched with the capacity
to invite readers into the mysteries
of life seen in ways fey and clever
beyond belief; but not quite beyond
as we suspend mundane faculties
so given to incredulity and lose ourselves
in the bends and twists of a creative
process whose Muse has triumphed.

Is there any greater pleasure than the
expectation of losing oneself in a landscape
explored by a skillful creationist,
unhesitatingly transcribed for our
delectation in fantasy and fact
drawing us ever closer into an arras
of human emotions we may have
noted but never quite remotely reached
shielded by the soft save haven
of our own protected lives?

Each book sends a shiver of expectation
over our minds, into our very souls.
Each an exquisite jewel of the imagination
transporting, elevating, entertaining, instructing
us in the ways of Nature and the nature
of humankind; occasionally absent
the kind. How utterly droll.