Fire-Breathing Poetry

“I love playing with words. That’s why I write poems. I also love to see how other people play with words. That’s why I read poems.”

- from Bob Raczka, author of Lemonade and Other Poems Squeezed from a Single Word illustrated by Nancy Doniger)

“Once upon a happenstance
I met a knight in armor.
I fixed my flame upon his lance –
It was a four-alarmer!”

- from the poem “Dragonbrag” from The Dragons are Singing Tonight written by Jack Prelutsky and illustrated by Peter Sis

I have always been a lover of poetry. As a singer, I hear poetry as spoken music. The lilts, rhymes, alliterations, and musicality of poems lend themselves kindly to dreamer’s ears. And surely, I have always been a dreamer. In the book I am currently reading, Princess Academy The Forgotten Sisters by Newbury Honor Winner Shannon Hale, the main character Miri describes poetry as "human imagination, seeking to express what is, even while dreaming of what might be" (Hale, 2015).

Recently, I discovered that poetry can be so much more than I once believed it to be. In college I wrote many anagram poems in which the alternating lines would have the same exact letters as the preceding lines. Little did I know that this form of letter-playing poetry was a true style! Because of my love for anagramming, I thoroughly enjoyed the simple genius of author Bob Raczka and illustrator Nancy Doniger in Lemonade and Other Poems Squeezed from a Single Word which consists of brief poems written in the letters of a single word. For example:

Creative
i
crave
art

Simple but genius. The same letters from the word “creative” are used to make up the three words of the poem that truly describes the essence of being “creative”. Look at the picture and see how the poet designed the poems so that the letters fall under their original place in the title word. Because of this, reading the longer poems can be a tricky business. On the back side of the page, the poem is written in normal form. Another of my favorites is “Constellation”. See if you can read it from the picture without me telling you the words.

Did you get it?

Constellation
a
silent
lion
tells
an
ancient
tale

The poem reminds me of Aslan and Narnia. Great skies of stars that speak stories. You see? I begin speaking more poetically even as I talk about poetry. I cannot help it.

The illustrations by Nancy Doniger are equally as simple and genius as the writing. Minimalistic black, grey, and red watercolors blend to depict humble yet intriguing images that thoroughly capture the meanings of the poems.

I believe I am so inspired that I must venture one of my own on the spot in this post. Let’s see:

quotes
         s
       e
      t
    o
  u  t
      t
    o
qu   es
      t

quotes
set
out
to
quest

My poem picture book is a beautifully illustrated set of poems about dragons. Given my preoccupation with all things fantasy, this combination of rhyme and fantastical beast was a winner for me. I could read these all by myself and chuckle to no end. As you can see in my opening example “Dragonbrag”, many of the poems are quite humorous. Some of the funny and witty ones take a turn at the last line to make the joke evident. Even so, there are a few poems that were more thought-provoking and encouraging of childlike imagination such as the secret dragon in the bath tub, the dragon in a child’s computer, the nasty half-inch dragon, and “If you don’t believe in dragons”.

The illustrations by Peter Sis draw the reader into an unforeseen world. Each poem specifically matched with masterful drawings to create the mood, atmosphere, and point of view set by the poem. I highly recommend both books of poetry and writing your own poetry! I also recommend trying to put them to music as I plan to do with this book of dragon poems in my elementary music class. Read this last poem "I am Boom!" and imagine marching and singing with a group of young, active students.

Revolution and Immigration

“It was dim and gloomy down below. Peggy couldn’t believe that this dreadful place was where she would spend the next five to six weeks. She could see so much in the faces of fellow passengers – excitement, hope, fear, and, in a few, utter misery. They all were aware of the noise of water slapping against the wood of the ship’s frame. Suddenly it seemed louder and stronger, and they realized that the ship was casting off and leaving the quayside…At once there was a mad rush up on deck. They formed a human chain all round the ship. No words were spoken as they feasted their eyes on a last look at Ireland…the journey had begun.
It was dusk when they filed down below. Everyone was aware that there was no going back.”
- from Wildflower Girl by Marita Conlon-McKenna

I have always been an avid reader of historical fiction since my days of literary adventure with the American Girls. I fled from slavery with Addy, I embraced Nordic traditions with Kirsten, I helped impoverished girls with Samantha, I became a penny pincher with Kit, and I rode horses through revolution with Felicity. Every one of these adventures instilled the culture and trials of various historical periods in my long-term memory because they were through shared experiences of story. Because of Felicity and my brief years living in Virginia, my propensity has been towards the colonial era in my historical fiction reading, and to this day I love tales of that time. I used to wear my very own colonial dresses (sewn by my skilled, kind mother) through the streets of colonial Williamsburg and pretend that I worked there like every other costumed passerby. No doubt I will always adore that era of history.

In coordination with my colonial fascination, I read a humorous account of our American forefathers entitled John, Paul, George, and Ben written and illustrated by Lane Smith. This witty narrative tells a short tale about each forefather when they were just a boy: John Hancock, Paul Revere, Benjamin Franklin, and George Washington. Each tale highlights a predominant trait in the boy that ends up being useful as they become part of the American Revolution.

John loves to sign his name as largely as possible on everything, and so, when it came time to sign the Declaration of Independence, John made his historically famous signature. Paul is depicted as a boy who cannot control his speaking volume, and so, when the British finally arrived, Paul was there to loudly proclaim the warning. Ben had many clever sayings that helped form the American government. George chops the cherry tree and cannot tell a lie, and so, he becomes the trusted first president. Even so, the funny final page of the story shows that they keep George away from trees.

The ending pages of the book give a truthful account of each man’s history to compare with the humorous tales in the story. The pen and ink illustrations bring life to the story and include speech bubble details that make the book incredibly interesting and entertaining. Children can enjoy relating to our American forefathers in the approachable context of childhood follies that we all share.

Beyond my appreciation for colonial fictions, I also have a fondness for historically accurate tales of fictional characters overcoming hardship through persecution, immigration, or evasion. I was fortunate enough to spend my honeymoon last month in Northern Ireland, and I encountered this trilogy of books by Irish author Marita Conlon-McKenna. She writes the tale of Peggy O’Driscoll through her survival of the Great Famine, her immigration to America, and her expansion to the west. Wildflower Girl is the second book in the series, and takes Peggy through her decision to immigrate, her horrid experience on the ship to America, and trying to find her place and employment in the busy city of Boston.

Seeing the cities, villages, and fields of Irish country firsthand, I could understand what Peggy was giving up by gambling a better life and employment in America. I can easily imagine her shock and horror at the devastating conditions of life on the ship. Immigration tales are numerous, but I had not read one of Irish immigration, and I knew the fare would be cheap and difficult, but the wretched affair was worse that I had imagined. I would regale you with the sorrows, but I rather you read them for yourself. Finally, Peggy does arrive in Boston, and after various failed attempts at proper employment, she finds a place in a fine house as a scullery maid. I look forward to continuing her tale when I read the next book, Fields of Home.

God, Bras, and Shoes

“My parents don’t know I actually talk to God. I mean, if I told them they’d think I was some kind of religious fanatic or something. So I keep it very private. I can talk to him without moving my lips if I have to. My mother says God is a nice idea. He belongs to everybody.”

-         - from Are you there God? It’s me, Margaret by Judy Blume

“Brandon T. comes to school in those shoes. He says he’s the fastest runner now, not me. I was always the fastest before those shoes came along.”

-        -  from Those Shoes by Maribeth Boelts, illustrated by Noah Z. Jones

Coming of age is a trying time for adolescents of any age, race, or religion. For Margaret and Jeremy, I read the evidence with recollection of similar struggles in my youth. Although I too struggled to fit in and avoid being the target of mockery, I certainly followed my own path that prevented me from experiencing the same pressures as Margaret and Jeremy.

Let’s take Jeremy’s example in Those Shoes. Jeremy craves the black high tops with white stripes that all the other boys in his class gradually get and show off in the halls. Jeremy and his grandmother search the stores and thrift shops until they find a reasonably priced pair. Even though the shoes are too small for Jeremy, he buys them anyways. In the end, Jeremy ends up anonymously giving the shoes to a boy in his class who wears shoes that are taped together and in bad condition.

I can relate to Jeremy’s desire to fit in and ride the surf of status quo within his classroom hierarchy. However, I learned at an early age that this was not an easy feat for the weird, nerdy girl that I was. My father used to refer to me as “unique”, and I proudly wore the moniker as one who rows upstream with glee. Despite my seemingly content manner of oddities and idiosyncrasies, I still longed somewhat to be a part of the groups in school that did follow the fads. I never wore ripped jeans or got chunky highlights in my hair or wore the grown-up underwear ahead of my time, but inside I still felt the pressure to conform.

Similarly, Margaret felt much pressure to conform and be “normal”. In her group of girls this meant wearing bras too soon, wishing for their periods, liking the same boys, and increasing their bust. In these areas, I was all too happy to wait. I never had much inclination for growing up early or even on time. I preferred more of a Peter Pan mindset when it came to my adolescence. Margaret had a lot on her plate with moving to a new neighborhood in New Jersey, grandparents vying for her to follow two different religions, and girl friends who insisted on normalcy and maturing. Throughout all this, Margaret confidentially confides in God through brief prayers that always begin with “are you there God? It’s me, Margaret”. 

I can see how the book gained a saucy reputation among parents and educators. The content of the story involves parts of growing up that guardians of preteens would rather not face. However, I believe it is vital that adolescents, preteens, and teens see themselves in the literature they are presented to read. The beliefs and hopes of Margaret are not different from most preteen girls, but they are skewed in their focus. We must allow preteens to explore such literature as long as we also take care to discuss the issues and themes openly with them.

Once Upon a Fable

“He who finds out

where my twelve daughters go

will be the next king of the land.

And he may choose a princess to wed.

But if three nights pass

And he does not know,

Then I will give one command –

and that man shall lose his head.”

-        From The Twelve Dancing Princesses retold by Freya Littledale

Once upon a time, I was a young impressionable girl who loved fairytales, magic, and other stories that incited whimsical imagination. In the fairytale, The Twelve Dancing Princesses, the king makes the pronouncement as seen above, and many princes come to the castle hoping to discover the princesses’ secret but fail and are put to death. Finally, with the help of a mysterious old woman and an invisibility cloak, an injured soldier tricks the princesses by wearing a sponge beneath his collar into which he pours the drugged wine that would make him sleep through the night. He pretends to snore and then follows the princesses through the forests of silver, gold, and diamonds, the lake with twelve princes and boats, and the underground castle where the princesses dance the night away. In the end, the soldier proves he knows the princesses’ secret by evidence of branches of silver, gold, and diamonds. Oddly, he chooses to marry the eldest princess even though she is consistently rude to her sisters and the soldier. Perhaps this marriage was his greatest form of reprehension.

The Twelve Dancing Princesses was one of my favorite fairytales though as an adult, I can now see the darkness within the story. Somehow, my sweet child-like nature only focused on the dancing, the magic, and the mystical forests of silver, gold, and diamond leaves. However, upon reading this story at my current age I notice the beheading of hopeful princes, the drugged wine tricks, the rudeness of the eldest princess, and the odd choice of the soldier to marry the eldest princess in the ending of the story. Interestingly, the dark shadows and hues of the illustrations highlight the underlying darkness in the plot and themes. The portion of the page illustrated changes consistently throughout the story, capturing and keeping the reader’s interest. The very center opening of the book displays the one double-page spread marking the climax of the story. The predominant element of magic makes this a definite fairytale. The soldier’s hard work is rewarded, and he achieves the ideal fairytale ending. And of course, the story begins with the necessary “once upon a time”. There is not an apparent positive moral in this story unlike The Lion and the Mouse from Aesop’s Fables.

In The Lion and the Mouse, a mouse pleads for his life from the lion by promising to repay him. The arrogant lion lets the mouse go but does not expect to ever need his assistance. One day the lion is caught in a hunter’s net, and it is the heroic mouse who gnaws the ropes to set the lion free and famously declares, “Now you see that even a mouse can help a lion”. This positive moral lesson shows readers that even the small and seemingly useless people or children can help the seemingly strong and powerful. A child can feel a sense of purpose or worth from such a fable. This fable of Aesop follows many of the typical characteristics of a quality fable. There are nonhuman main characters, the lion and the mouse, the setting of the story is nondescript in time and location, the story is short and contains a specific lesson, and the themes highlight desirable behaviors.

Similarities between the stories are the nondescript time and setting. There is not much of a sense of good versus evil in either story. The mouse and soldier show humility over the pride of the lion and the princesses. A noted contrast between the stories is that the main characters of the fables are nonhuman animals where as the main characters of the fairytale are certainly human.

Just like the soldier in the fairytale, once I read folklore such as these, I want “to see more of the magical world underground”.

Lions, and Pigeons, and Dragons, Oh My!

“It is with the reading of books the same as with looking at pictures; one must, without doubt, without hesitations, with assurance, admire what is beautiful.”
- Vincent Van Gogh
A talented children’s author can find just the right blend of text and visual depiction. Today, I would like to describe a few picture books that intrigued me recently with their fusion of story and illustration.

The first is a quippy little book entitled Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus! written and illustrated by Mo Willems. At first, I was surprised that this simple book received a Caldecott Honor award in 2004, but upon further inspection I observed the modest wit that makes the book so fun for the reader. This picture book tells the brief tale of a pigeon who desperately wants to drive a bus and attempts to convince the reader to grant him permission to do so while the bus driver is away. By far, the most intriguing aspect of the quaint book is the perpetual breaking down of the fourth wall between the book’s characters and the reader. The reader is invited to be a full participant in the story. Without the reader’s involvement, the story does not make sense. This begins with the driver asking the reader to watch things for him while he’s gone. He warns the reader not to let the pigeon drive the bus! What I love even more about this warning is that it takes place before the regular book pages begin! The driver’s request and warning are built into the title page, thus increasing the suspense and interest of the reader.
The minimalistic color choices combined with the broad inviting speech bubbles make for an approachable reading experience. The pigeon becomes more expressive as its requests become sillier. The pictures change in shape and size to keep from monotony, especially at the climax of the story when the pigeon’s frenzy takes the entire page. My favorite page is the penultimate persuasion where the pigeon’s remarks are blocked into eight differently colored squares. I greatly recommend this picture book though it would not count as a picture story book per say. The book is fiction, the pictures create a certain mood, the pictures are consistent with the text, the artist uses color in a clever way, but there is not the important element of something of significance being said to the child. However, it does allow the child to yell, “No!” a lot which is something children love to do.

“The righteous are bold as a lion.”
- Proverbs 28:1

My next book is Lizzy the Lioness written by Lisa Bevere and illustrated by Kirsteen Harris-Jones. This sweet fictional tale tells the story of “busy Lizzy, the littlest lion” who wants to be big and brave like the other lions. After making friends with a little human girl, Lizzy discovers that courage isn’t just being big, it is being wise enough to know what’s the right thing to do. When Lizzy sees her friend being attacked by baboons, she really hates being little but realizes, “Even though Lizzy was too little to fight the baboons, she wasn’t too little to ask for help.” She runs to her camp for help, the adult lions run the baboons off, and Lizzy’s parents praise her for her bravery. Her mother reminds Lizzy that, “sometimes the bravest thing you can do is to ask for help.”
Through the narrative and pictures, this picture story book teaches children that being small does not mean they can’t be brave and that sometimes the wisest and bravest thing to do is to ask for help. Even if a child can not yet read, they should be able to follow Lizzy’s story from the illustrations that create the fun-loving and energetic mood of Lizzy herself. The pictures show Lizzy’s character developing silly in her restlessness, pouty in her self-pity, fearful of how to handle difficulty situations, and finally determined in doing the right thing. The reader is kept interested in following the pictures as they change from little minute scenes throughout the page to half-page and whole-page scenes. The more significant the moment, the larger the scene’s picture is on the page. The book jacket shows a happy, leaping Lizzy and the end papers show serene landscapes of Lizzy’s home. The book is full of color and excitement in the illustrations and even the text. I highly recommend this picture story book to parents and teachers of young readers, especially with due to the hints of biblical values within the story.

“The only thing dragons love more than parties of tacos, is taco parties.”
- Dragons Love Tacos

Finally, let’s look at a recent favorite in the elementary education community, New York Times bestseller Dragons Love Tacos written by Adam Rubin and illustrated by Daniel Salmieri. Though the picture book does not say anything of particular significance to a child, other than perhaps to read the fine print on labels, it is still a thoroughly enjoyable read for all ages. The text is humorous, and the illustrations keep the story from becoming repetitive. Even children who can only use the pictures to decipher the story would still be engaged. The pictures are very consistent with the text even in little details. For example, in the full-page image where the author warns the boy to “bury the spicy salsa in the backyard so the dragons can’t find it,” the boy is off in the back corner with his dog burying the salsa as the dragons line up at the front door of the house. The end pages are full of little tacos, and the dragons are shown in all different shapes, sizes, and colors throughout the book. The boy’s party goes into chaos when the hidden jalapeño peppers cause a torrent of dragon fire-breathing, but the lovable dragons help him rebuild the house. Like Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus! the only element missing from the picture story book criteria is something of significance being told to the child in the story. Because of course it is fictional that dragons love tacos. Or is it?

A Young Person's Game for the Bored and Restless

"The Caldecott Medal was named in honor of nineteenth-century English illustrator Randolph Caldecott. It is awarded annually by the Association for Library Service to Children, a division of the American Library Association, to the artist of the most distinguished American picture book for children."

- from the Association for Library Service to Children

"What's that?" Judy asked

"It's a game," said Peter, handing her the box.

"'JUMANJI,'" Judy read from the box, "'A JUNGLE ADVENTURE GAME.'"

"Look," said Peter, pointing to a note taped to the bottom of the box. In a childlike handwriting were the words "Free game, fun for some but not for all. P.S. Read instructions carefully."

- from Jumanji written and illustrated by Chris Van Allsburg

Having recently seen the new film adaptation of Jumanji, I was eager to read this acclaimed picture book version written and illustrated by Chris Van Allsburg. The book won the Caldecott Medal for illustration in 1982. When it comes to illustrations, I love a children's book that can create that feeling of being there in the scene with the simplest of drawings. The gray-scale modality of Allsburg's illustrations have that effect in his rendition of Jumanji. The black, white, and gray shades of the illustrations establish the story as a normal day in a normal house that will endure adventure unlike its normalcy. In my opinion, the most interesting aspect of the illustrations are the vantage point. Every picture seems to be drawn from a different and unexpected vantage point. You can see below that the image of the two children beginning to play the game is taken from above, and the picture of the lion appearing on the piano is taken from below at an angle.

The story begins as it should, with the neglectful parents leaving for the opera and warning the boy and girl to "please keep the house neat". I get tickled by such foreshadowing. Any storybook parent who asks for cleanliness at the beginning of a children's story is clearly headed for mess and chaos. Peter and his sister Judy discover the game board under a tree in the park, and they bring it home to play despite Peter's disinterest. I was amused at how the game declared itself to be "A Game for the Bored and Restless," but Peter, in his declared boredom, did not see the game as an answer to his ennui.

As one may expect, the game turns out to be a dangerous and exotic adventure in which monkeys, lions, storms, and snakes find their way into the house. The first appearance is the lion, and I could not help but be pleased that he chose to appear on top of the piano. By the detail in the picture, it is apparent that someone in the house must be an accomplished musician.

The children are forced to continue on in the game because the rules state that once the game has begun it is not over until someone reaches the final space and yells out "Jumanji!" Therefore, the frightened boy and girl press on through the exotic animal appearances to reach the end and restore order to their home.

One illustration in particular shows the genius of Allburg's artistic intentions. The python that appears over the mantle has markings that match the designs on the couch and arm chair. A sign that perhaps the story is coming from the children's own imaginings or a sign that the exotic is only one step away from regular life if we bother to take a look or a chance.

The Caldecott Medal was well-awarded to this book, and I thoroughly enjoyed the read. Jumanji would make a great book for a family gathering together to read as a unit or as an exciting classroom read aloud and game.

References

Van Allsburg, C. (1981). Jumanji. New York, NY: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company

http://www.ala.org/alsc/

Give the Giver a Try

“‘Or what if,’ he went on almost laughing at the absurdity, ‘they chose their own jobs?’
‘Frightening, isn’t it?’ The Giver Said.
Jonas chuckled. ‘Very frightening. I can’t even imagine it. We really have to protect people from wrong choices.’
‘It’s safer.’
‘Yes,’ Jonas agreed. ‘Much safer.’”
- Lois Lowry, The Giver

Somehow, I made it through middle school and high school without reading The Giver by Lois Lowry. Shocking, I know! In a peculiar way, I am glad I waited until this moment in life to read the novel because I comprehend and question in a deeper way due to my reading journey up to this point. If you are like me and missed this brilliant piece of literature in your school years, here is a quick summary. A utopian society has determined that sets of rules, climate control, and “Sameness” can keep their communities happy and organized. The Receiver of Memory has the unfortunate job of keeping all memories of pain, agony, and grief as well as those of color, love, and true joy going back for centuries. Young 12-year-old Jonas is selected to become the new Receiver of Memory.

From the very start the book incites questions, thoughts, and ponderings on the nature of society. Would sameness and organization truly bring happiness? Is the omission of warfare and hunger worth the elimination of music and love? Like persistently breaking waves, such questions rolled through my mind as I read the enchanting novel.

Coincidentally, I recently filled another important gap in my literary journey that I couldn’t help but compare with The Giver. Over the New Year’s holiday, I read Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. Both The Giver and Brave New World are based in a utopian ideal society in which everyone in the community follows a set of rules that are supposed to ensure happiness and order. Both books use medicine and genetics as control methods, but Aldous Huxley’s book is more adult in its content. Lowry’s book depicts a society built on the compression of pleasure into simple surface-level happiness. Their medicines are to dissipate pain and withdraw any sensual stirrings. In contrast, Huxley’s book depicts a society built on the augmentation and continuation of pleasure to pacify its people. The medicines of Brave New World act as sensual agents and legalized drug-induced trances. Both novels show the possibilities of over-sensualized and under-sensualized controlled societies with committee-assigned economic class and genetic design. Personally, I prefer The Giver overall because it ties up loose ends in the plot and concludes with a hopeful ending. There is a wholesome wish for goodness and love and vibrancy that makes the reader ready to leap out the front door looking for a mountain to sled or a lake to sail.

A curious aspect of the book intrigued me to map out the author’s path to see if there was a pattern. I noticed the major lessons and memories given to Jonas are later experienced by him in reverse as he goes on his dangerous journey to the unknown “Elsewhere”. The Giver first gives him the memory of sledding down a snowy hill, then the warmth of the sunshine, then color, then physical injury, then hunger, and then a young boy’s death during warfare. Once Jonas and The Giver have decided on their dangerous course of action the series of memories begin in reverse but this time as Jonas’ own memories to keep. He watches the releasing of the twin boy and is shocked at the newborn’s death given by his father’s hand. He escapes with the toddler Gabriel and experiences true devastating hunger and physical injury firsthand. Jonas begins to lose memory of color and tries to keep Gabriel warm with his last fleeting memories of sunshine. Finally, Jonas makes his own memory to replace the first one he was given. He sleds down the snowy hill to Elsewhere.

Memories of Ally World

"But as he broadened the new part of his mind, so he closed down a beautiful and fascinating part of the old - the area of fantasy. The more knowledge man gained, the more self-conscious he became about believing in fanciful creatures." 

- Julie Andrews Edwards, The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles

When I was a child, I was often so caught up in my imagination that my family would say I was in "Ally World". Though they considered it an amusing excuse for my ADD, I truly found that the world my mind captured was one of imagination and wonder. The likely cause of my propensity towards alternative reality was the books read to me and those I read on my own. I distinctly recall the evenings spent at the foot of my brother's bed battling alongside Reepicheep and Caspian through the medium of my mother's voice. With openness of spirit, I played the glad game with Pollyanna. With courage and reflection, I experienced the historical troubles of the eras of Kirsten, Addy, Felicity, and Kit in the American Girls. I flew with dragons, fought with sorcerers, trained with knights, met the great Whangdoodle, and explored Mr. Wonka's factory. Is it no wonder that I looked to my surrounding world to be more of the same mystical quality? In truth, I was not dissatisfied with my real world. I simply saw more to it than is usually seen. Through my readings and innate curiosity, I developed a knack for seeing pretend things for fun, such as an opening to another dimension in the dark gap of a bush, a genie in the rushing and bustling of a crowd, or even the smile of God in the clouds. 

I treasure that special time in my life. Still today, I am a creative and imaginative person, but as I grew to be less odd and leave "Ally World" behind, much of that part of my mind changed. This transformation is explained elegantly in my beginning quote from the great Julie Andrews. She was a hero to me early on from the days of Mary Poppins, but it was not until later in life that I read her wonderful children's novels. It is true that as we gain in knowledge and grow in age, so our minds change to focus on things nearer and more present and tangible. What will never change is my eagerness to engage in a good book.