unchosen on the shelf
and in its simple way
it wondered sadly to itself,
how many days or weeks or months
or years it must there bide,
till any child might pick it up
and read the words inside.
It knew each boy and girl
within the classroom by their names
and through a nearby window
it could see their playground games.
It listened to their teacher who
was such a useful guide
and watched their lessons as it heard
about the world outside.
But while it learned, it yearned for
someone just to take a look
inside its pages and then choose it
as their reading book.
It wanted to feel useful
like the others it could see;
the stories and non-fiction,
picture books and poetry.
Then one day there was such a stir
as in that learning place
the number in the classroom grew
through one new unknown face.
A face that seemed quite careworn,
pale and somewhat like a ghost,
with such a gaze that seemed to say
she’d witnessed more than most.
A girl whose clothes were different
like she’d travelled from elsewhere,
who seldom spoke but when she did
her eyes with tears would stare
as wistfully she’d talk about
a distant troubled land,
a home so many miles away
where free-speech had been banned.
A conflict had erupted
so that families had to flee
in terror for their very lives
until they reached the sea.
The teacher and the children
being friendly did their best
to make the girl feel welcome;
an esteemed and honoured guest.
They showed her round the classroom;
where to sit, to write and draw.
They helped her with her English
and it wasn’t long before
the girl discovered many books;
some well-worn and some new,
including one which for sometime
longed to be been chosen too.
And then a most amazing thing
occurred, as with one look,
the new girl smiled when she first saw
the cover of that book.
For there in stunning colour
was a photographic scene
depicting life in far-off lands
and places she had been.
She chose it and then turned the page
and found her home once more
then lost herself in memories
upon the cushioned floor.
With new found friends, she shared the book
and talked and talked and smiled
while in her arms the lonely book
felt useful for a while.
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