The lonely wooden door,

tucked in the corner of the second floor,

opened up to the storylands

as far as the mind can ideate.

 

I would pick a book off the shelf,

like an apple off the tree,

bite into its delicious prose,

savor every word.

 

Leafing through pages,

sounds would fly up,

soar through the 

the deafening silence of the room:

murmurs, grumbles, and mumbles,

whines and sighs,

oohs and ahhs.

 

Then, the scents and sounds would intertwine:

Chocolate,
charcoal, and
chuckles.

 

Entranced,

I danced through new worlds

with new friends —

 

in seventh heaven.