Big words and long rhymes,
books in piles with pretty spines,
blurring borders between places and times,
where I grew up, dragons roared,
rings had lords,
carpets flew,
and wizards with long beards ruled.
Rivers were made of chocolate and houses of cake,
friends came in all shapes - pig, spider and snake.
Doors opened to jungles and stairs magically moved,
rabbit holes led to tea parties and topsy-turvy rooms.

I grew up in worlds of talking beasts and magic beans,
secret gardens and giving trees.
Where giants were kind, tin men had hearts,
and mischievous cats wore red-and-white hats.
Now, stories are interrupted by beeps and chimes,
phone screens punctuate metrical rhymes,
books in piles lie with dusty spines.