Librarians

Librarians

Eyes, horn rim shielded behind glass,
Noses buried in ancient pages,
None can the attraction surpass,
Or our beauteous bibliographic sages,

For it is in the mystery, of the unopened tome,
And the wisdom and enclosed delight,
But no librarian ever mistook even by poem,
The average man still knuckle dragging troglodyte,

Pale in skin untouched by sun,
They in deeper secrets delve,
Hair tied up in tidy bun,
But their passions they do not shelve

So they “Shhh” you when they hear a racket,
Or ask if these books overdue,
It’s the book and not the dust jacket,
That makes the attraction ensue,