Glazed

In the evening, when I rise,

there I prize,

a sun-glazed bookshelf.

Fresh insight and mental stealth,

I turn the page,

and burning rage,

of yester-year,

and gear

up for tomorrow-year.

Steer,

I coast into prosperity,

and crystal-mirror sanity.

Feeding emotions,

with massaging lotions,

that tend my needy,

heart-a-speedy,

thriving collection.

Recollection,

of all the stories,

and victories,

I read about,

the route,

my journey took,

by book,

as I read and read and read,

reciting, and I said and said and said…

“I will conquer and overcome,

when all is paid and done.

My struggle and toil,

beneath my feet, the clinging soil,

does not define me,

the finish line does, and all will soon see.”