Well Read

I met a man who in his home
Had books of every kind.
Of every subject, shape and size,
Why, you would surely find.

But never did he turn a page
Or bend a binding back.
He just admired them each day,
And added to his stack.

I met a man who didn't have
A pair of shoes, to walk.
But he had read most ev’ry book,
And with him I would talk...

He didn't own a palace where,
Within he lounged reclined.
But he owned treasures great and vast
Within his eager mind.