Draft in the author’s style. This poem was written for Poet in Wonderland to sit beside the author’s own readings, and is waiting for the author’s review. The commentary is a working draft too.
Behind the door of a crooked shop, where the dusty cobwebs hung,
Was a library made of mirrors where the stories all were sung.
Each book was bound in silver glass, and each page was a window pane,
And you read by stepping through them to a country's sun and rain.
I opened one on dragons, and I found myself in flight,
With the wind beneath my wingtips and the world a shining sight.
I opened one on oceans, and the waves came up to my knees,
And a whale sang me a sonnet in the salt and singing breeze.
But a book that showed my own life lay upon a marble stand,
And I read it, and I noticed that the ending was left unplanned.
So I picked up a silver pen and I wrote the next line true,
For the best of all the stories is the one that's led by you.
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Commentary
In this poem, a bookshop of mirrors turns reading into travelling. Each page is a window that lets the reader step into the story, and the final book is the one about the reader’s own life.
Behind “the door of a crooked shop” is “a library made of mirrors.” “Each book was bound in silver glass, and each page was a window pane,” and readers step “through them to a country’s sun and rain.” The speaker opens one on dragons and is “in flight,” and another on oceans, where “a whale sang me a sonnet.”
On a marble stand lies a book about the speaker’s own life, and “the ending was left unplanned.” The speaker picks up “a silver pen” and writes “the next line,” for “the best of all the stories is the one that’s led by you.”