Seven books you read to me, over countless weary nights
I drifted into dreams listening by orange lamplight
Stories of great ogres, trolls, dragons, fairies, and elves
We were gifted from my grandmother’s wooden bookshelves

She passed along words of wonder for us to explore
We sought a bedtime story, yet we found something more
Tales that spoke truths about our most unusual lives
And chapters that allowed my imagination to thrive

To this day, I return to those pages for inspiration
When I embark on my own quests of worldly creation
It is a delight to dive into a rich fictional history
And wander the wild lands of witchcraft and wizardry

These days, I so scarcely write strictly as a fan
But I so deeply appreciate these books on my nightstand
Somehow magic wands, dark lords, and forbidden forests
Have formed real bonds and friendships, the very purest

Though it is rare for a writer to achieve such reach
Before my life ends, a unique tale I hope to unleash
One that resonates with children and old souls as well
It is a story with a glowing core of truth I hope to tell

A story that transcends generations and cultures
Reigniting childhood for those living through adulthood
An adventure weaving together events both lovely and tragic
I want to thank these seven books for granting me the gift of magic

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