by Susan Chapek
With apologies to Fred Rogers
It's words I love.
It's not the book I read,
It's not the electronic feed,
But it's words I love.
It's words all by themselves,
The magic there inside them—
Not the things that hide them,
Not the books—
Books are just outside them.
But it's words I love—
Their shape and sound and rhythm,
The stories they bring with them
Whether old or new.
On Kindle or on Nook,
On a compact disc or in a book—
It's words I love,
The words themselves,
It's words, it's words I love.
