Worn pages slip between callused fingers,
A book too long forgotten,
An adventure waiting to be re-explored.
Trembling fingers open the loved pages,
Excitement quickens the breath.
Hours pass, pages turn,
The reader lives only in the book.
When at last the story ends,
The tattered, beloved book goes back to the shelf.
And there it sits. Waiting.
Waiting to be held and treasured again.