I remember as a child going to the big library shelf
And picking out poetry all by myself
I would pull out my big wooden chair to climb onto
Being very careful not to scuff it with my shoe I would reach up and pull down the book
Climbing back down to take a look I thought then oh how they could write, putting such meaning into their words,
They were some of the most beautiful words I'd ever heard To me they didn't make much sense, but something inside reached for them
I would check them out with my library card
Stacking them high in my arms within, Trying to make it home before dark
So thankful I could get these with just a library card I had so many I didn't know where to begin, dressed for bed, said my prayers, Amen
Climbed in bed and opened my big book
I couldn't hardly wait for one more look They seemed to take me to far away places
Seeing things I'd never seen, hearing things I'd never head
My heart just seemed to be racing by reading each new word I would read them and read them again
Trying to feel what the writer felt then,
Oh by the way at the time I was ten So many years have gone by since that time
Now I can't believe it I'm the one writing the lines
It's such a responsibility to say the right thing
Because to the children of this world the words we must bring For the mind is a terrible thing to waste, So we can't do this with hurry & haste
For a child's mind to grow up strong, Our words must flow like a beautiful song As They Go To The Library And High On The Shelf
They will pull out my book with words written within
And check them out with their library card to touch their lives again & again