In the quiet of the evening light,
I find solace in the pages bright,
Each word a whisper, each line a song,
In the realm of stories, I belong.

Through the forests of ink and paper,
Characters come alive, their spirits caper,
In the dance of prose, I lose my way,
Till dawn breaks, welcoming the day.

Each book a portal, a secret door,
To lands uncharted, tales of yore,
I wander through the author’s dreams,
On rivers of ink, on silken streams.

With every page turned, a new delight,
In the world of books, my heart takes flight,
In the silence, in the still,
Reading gives my soul its fill.