As a historian I was focused, on the long record of writing,
Considered an expert in the field, I found it most exciting.

For countless delights have arisen, out of the written word;
And we only knew crude language, before it had been mastered.

Like the lightning that flashes, without a sound of thunder,
Or manifestations of sunset skies, that do not cause wonder!

One afternoon I was working, on a golden and beautiful day,
Traversing backwards many miles, on history's scenic highway.

Suddenly on the page I read, words changed into hieroglyphics,
The distant past had come calling, defying all laws of physics!

Later on as in wonder I sat, the pictorials became cuneiform,
As if ancient writing itself, had much more magic to perform.

I read cuneiform until tired, and then for home I departed;
But little I knew at the time, the magic had only started!

Once home when I saw my mail, I found The Epic of Giglamesh,
Earliest surviving great literary work, seeming very fresh.

After dinner I spent the evening, in great fascination reading,
As the vivid dawn waits in suspense, to hear the bluebirds sing!

Later I spent the long night, in sweet and peaceful dreams;
Like the peace when all is still, and the palest moon gleams.

Next day while walking to work, I noticed a skywriting plane.
A letter of the Ugaritic Alphabet, it wrote upon sunny lanes!

All day the past leapt out at me, on street signs and in menus,
In magazines, maps and newspapers, and also the evening news.

I'd seen the Phoenician Alphabet, and Library of Ashurbanipal,
The Inscription of Ahiram, and the Greek Alphabet upon a wall.

In the index of a book I reviewed, the fateful Latin Alphabet;
And at lunchtime on the beach, I found the Rosetta Stone unwet.

Later on in a book's glossary, the Elder Futhark I discovered,
As a private eye searches again, for secrets already uncovered!

In the same warm gilded afternoon, I found Futhark the Younger.
At evening on that day, the Anglo Saxon futhorc caused me wonder.

And after the red sun had gone, when pale moon and stars were out,
A dictionary revealed the Devanagari, a fateful alphabet no doubt.

I had seen many ancient alphabets, which had brought me to today;
And various other ancient works, for history yet has much to say!

Perhaps it was from my great passion, that this spell had come;
And history chose to visit me, though with time out of rhythm.

As time went on I discovered, a printing press embossed letter;
And then I saw the Hangul, embroidered into a violet sweater!

After these things I saw no more, but even so I felt raptures,
Like the heart long searching for, a thing it finally captures!