Ekaterina sat secretly in the attic consuming 

Words and stories from ages before her upbringing 

Her grandfather said, ‘don’t go into the attic.’

Then he winked, as he knew up there, she’d find magic 

Just as her wise grandfather had pointed the way

Ekaterina saw the words dance and light shimmers display 

Turning pages, dusty browned edges, sneezing while proofing 

Oh so mesmerized, lingering for the summer, delightfully giggling 

So it was that summer, spent with gramps, became her best memory 

Changing her forever, open to stories and whimsical fairies

Grandfather gave Ekaterina an inheritance from his treasury 

Lasting a lifetime, Kat bequeathed to her grandchildren 

For’ the lineage of words and tales found in an attic

Trickled down generations of descendants making literary addicts

All because a grandfather and his enchanted enigmatic 

Took initiative, gifting his offspring with analytical acrobatics 

Happy reading 🎩BJ

Thanking my mother for giving me the gift of literature 

Image from courtesy of The Poets Haven on FB