25. Only a Book

It is only a book

And a tattered one at that,

And if you closely look

There’s the binding showing through.

But I see her where she sat

With her spectacles on her nose,

Reading this book;

And the rose

Which she placed, twixt the leaves to keep flat;

And her hands with the veins showing blue.

And I hear her clock with its chime,

And the dear sweet sound of her voice.

There seems a whole ocean of time

For me to sit and rejoice,

Remembering the old ever new…

But this is only a book

And a tattered one at that,

To you!