The most magical room in the world
to Leonard was Mrs Naumenko’s library.
Every Tuesday, Leonard would walk
just two doors down,
unsheathe the little brass key from its doormat and t h r u s t !
it into the door, opening a new world. The room was a small circle, but reached impossibly tall
like a great, big tower of tomes, books
lining all the way to the ceiling!
It was clear that Mrs Naumenko was a wizard.
Leonard was convinced. He was even more
certain of this because everytime he read a book, the story would swallow him up.
He would fall
in
to
the pages…
Suddenly, Leonard became a hero, Leonard-Hood
and he was surrounded by green hills and new friends:
adjectives!
Merry, Brave, True, and Just
all helped Leonard-Hood save Nottingham from the Sheriff of Greedy and Evil. Leonard-Hood
let loose a volley of words
as piercing as arrows. Satisfied, Leonard-Hood
put down his Hood, leaving happily ever after for another book…
The next | book spoke | in love | ly verse, A
roman | tic rhymes, | and mush | y words. B
The boy | soon re | alized | his curse: A
more yu | cky plays | split in | to thirds! B
To not | protest | rudely | and terse, A
poor Leo | nard flew | away | like birds… B
Leonard now found himself inside a mystery!
Where? Who?
Why? How?
So many clues and so many questions!
Leonard craned his neck this way and that
like a question mark, trying to solve the puzzle.
Of course, Detective Leonard solved the case.
Stupendous, good fellow! declared Watson
Leonard replied, It was preschool, dear Watson!
But, Leonard had another question:
Watson, what was that word you just said?
The doctor paused, “Stupendous?”
I mean that you were truly great!
Leonard smiled, Thank you, friend. I think we’ve closed this case…
Now,
Leonard was an
adventurer,
paddling rapidly
through the rushing
white water pages
of an
exciting,
yet short
story…
The last thing that Leonard read
was a sneaky sticky note,
left in the real world
while Leonard was out on his long journey.
It read, “Come back when you’re done reading!
I made your favorite…”
—Love, Dada
Leonard came back to
the buttered scent of grilled cheese
and warm tomato soup. Dada in the kitchen
stirring a pot over the heat
of John Coltrane’s “A Love Supreme.”
Home is always a nice end to a story.
“How was the library, baby?”
Leonard puffed his chest proudly.
“Stupendous!”