This poem was written as a thankyou to Sylvia, from her sister, Irene.

When I was small and could not read, my sister read to me,
She opened doors to Fantasy and Fun, Adventure, Love and Mystery.
She read me tales of Magic Beans; White Rabbits, who could talk,
Of Peter Pan and Wendy, ‘Let’s fly’ no need to walk,
Of Ratty, Mole and Badger, Ali Baba and the Thieves,
Witches, Elves and Fairy Folk, who hid among the trees.

The joy when I could read to myself, the stories never ending,
The Library, a treasure trove, of Looking and Lending.
Black Beauty, My Friend Flicka, Uncle Remus and Huck Finn,
Anne Shirley, Lorna Doone, The Abbey Girls and Little Women,
I loved them all, I laughed out loud, I wept, I gasped in fear,
There was no time for ‘boredom’, when all those friends were near.

But years roll on, teens turned into twenties, love, marriage and children of my own,
No time for reading to myself, it was my children’s turn.
To have the portals opened, into the Land of Dreams,
To read to them and hope they’d see, the wonders I had seen.
But time were changing and books were left unread,
They seemed to want to watch, the television screen instead.

But then my children grew and had children of their own,
and Grandma Could read to them, the books she’d always known.
But suddenly I realised there were books I’d never read,
Who was Harry Potter, why did the Dark Lord want him dead,
I’ve been down Diagonal Alley and on the Hogwarts Train,
I’ve flown on Harry’s Nimbus and caught the snitch again.

I’ve journeyed into Parallel Worlds, with Lyra and Will and an armoured Bear,
I’ve travelled far with Bilbo Baggins to find the Dragon’s Lair.
I followed the story of Artemus Fowl, deep down underground,
Where a Feisty Fairy called Holly, was waiting to be found,
I’ve struggled through Mordor with Frodo and Sam to find the Crack of Doom,
I’ve done all this and much, much more within my own front room.

This poem like the stories of course is never ending,
But I haven’t time to write much more, I have a new book pending.
So Thank you, Thank you, sister dear, for the time you spent with me,
When I was small and could not read, and you read the words for me.