With a shock I remember
yesterday’s miracle: The
librarian handing me the
precious last Harry Potter
book - that you took away
for safekeeping so I could
concentrate – but it’s too
late; I’m licking my lips in
expectation of the treat; I
refuse to be normal again
until I’ve spent time with
Harry and Professor Snape;
this time I won’t spoil it again
by starting at the end – I’m
wiser now, I’ll start on page
one and carry on to the end;
this is a raging fever, I cannot
contain it, I want to board the
runaway train of Potter’s adventures,
the magic is luring me on and
I must follow; please give me
the book; otherwise I shall
forsake all my duties until I
can feast on Rowling’s inventions;
leaving this world to gambol in
Hogwarts; and if Harry is dead,
I’ll resurrect him in my head!
Margaret Alice
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/harry-potter-harry-dead-resurrect-him-in-my-head/
