Is this the time?
I tell myself
This is the last time
I put another book on my shelf

They stand there like imaginary elves
And pretend to be orphans-
These unread dreams
Falling apart at the seams
Full of mythical faeries and dragons

At the candlestick end of my bookshelf,
There are old chocolates and sour cream,
Bygone calendars and unused reams.

Is there enough time
To unlock a fresh dream?