"What sits asleep upon my dusty shelf?
Flights of fancy waiting to be flew.
A haunted hotelier and eager elf,
A wizard wise and dragon des'late too,
Between the cosy sheets are napping snug.
Resting. Waiting. To take their cues and seize
Their day of peace. They tease. They stir and shrug -
The dozy blinking eyes arise with ease.
From shores of Westeros to Canterbury
Awake the resting minds of date souls,
Of stories stored, of thoughts wrapped tight - to be
(or not to be) discovered and retold.
They are the dreams someone chose to be stored
And I get to choose which lives once more."