Every book she reads becomes her camp fire.
All the beautiful shadows that hover over her term her a liar.
At the crest of knowledge she sips her hot brew.
That make her forget the unwanted crew.
These pages cuddle her soul.
And the flapping of their wings lift her over to the North Pole.
Her throne is her beauty and the beast.
And by her foot stool, all her admirers feast.
She chose the big ceramic bowl for this dark concoction.
And her face all glued to the scribbled words like her favourite portion.
©ed-rukungu
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