33: Great Expectations, 1860–61 (serialized), by Charles Dickens (1812–70)
I could not read this book at first—
My ninth-grade quiz scores were the worst.
I swore I’d not read Dickens—no!
Oh, not until the sun had burst.
But years will pass, as you well know,
And young men (sometimes) then will grow
Into a new maturity
And rise like some rich sourdough.
In college came a victory—
I read the book again, and—see!—
There is so much there to enjoy—
And other readers will agree.
And so I grew—a man (no boy
Who wanted just a flashy toy—
Some wooden horse that brought down Troy)
Who’d learned how words bring greatest joy.
No comments:
Post a Comment