Books Poem by John Yaws

As a youngster in the country-
My world was very small-
The distances around me
Were a most effective wall.
Then quite young I started reading
Ah, the books were such a treasure
That my universe expanded
Till 'twas almost without measure.
I read about the Mongol hordes-
The mighty Genghis Khan,
The Greeks and Turks, and Persians
The list goes on and on.
Of the knights and courtesans of old-
Of battles lost and won-
Of every land, and tribe and clime
Beneath the tired old Sun.
I read of bold sir Francis Drake
And Henry Morgan, too-
Sir Walter Raleigh, was a rake-
As good Queen Bess well knew.
Squanto, Pocahontas,
And Plymouth by the way
Were early my familiars
Such stalwarts were my stay.
In my books I learned of places
Of which I'd never heard-
Heroic deeds and faces-
Were mine through written word.
I learned of heels and heroes
That it takes to forge a land
Like John Oakhurst, the gambler
Who played out his last hand.
Of whores who turned to ladies-
And heroes, craven turned-
Ah, the multitude of knowledge
Which from my books I learned.