A Trip To The Library

How did you like the library You've never seen such a place So many books So much marble So quiet And suddenly all of my confidence dribbled away with a pitiful plop. My head was beginning to swim. And my forehead was covered with cold perspiration. I started to reach for a book. And my hand automatically came to a stop. I don’t know how long I stood frozen. A victim of panic and mortification. Oh how I wanted to flee. When a kindly voice, a gentle voice, whispered "Pardon me." "Pardon me." Uh huh And there was this dear, sweet, clearly respectable, thickly-bespectacled man, who stood by my side. And quietly said to me, “ Ma’am, don’t mean to intrude, but I was just wondering, are you in need of some help？” I said“No..Yes, I am~” The next thing you know, I’m sipping hot chocolate, and telling my troubles to Paul. Whose tender brown eyes kept Sending compassionate looks. A trip to the library. Has made a new girl of me. For suddenly I can see. The magic of books I have to admit in the back of my mind. I was praying he wouldn’t get fresh. And all of the while, I was wondering. Why an illiterate girl should attract him. Then all of a sudden he said I couldn’t go wrong, with “The Way Of All Flesh.” Of course it’s a novel but I didn’t know. Or I certainly wouldn’t have smacked him. Well, he gave me a smile that I couldn’t resist. And I knew at once how much I liked this, optometrist. Optometrist？ Op-to-me-trist. You know what this dear, sweet, slightly-bespectacled gentleman said to me next？ He said he could solve this problem of mine. I said “How” He said, If I’d like, he’d willingly read to me, some of his favorite things. I said “When” He said “Now.” His novel approach seemed highly suspicious. And possibly dangerous, too. I told myself, “Wait！Think！Dare you go up to his flat？” What happens if things go wrong？ It’s obvious he’s quite strong. He read to me all night long. Now how about that？ It’ s hard to believe how truly domestic. And happily hopeful I feel. I picture my Paul there, reading aloud as I cook. As long as he’s there to read, there’s quite a good chance indeed. A chance that I’ll never need. To open a book. Unlike someone else. Someone I dimly recall. I know he’ll only have eyes for me. My optometrist， Paul！