Yet another nameless post

Old, familiar books
Spruce in dust jackets,
Verdant dreams
Trimmed to size,
Motley mementoes
Cluttering up the brackets,
The skyline behind the highrise.

One fine day
I threw them all away
Knowing there would
Be Heaven to pay.

I rushed pell-mell
On to the dusty, sun-baked streets,
Running away from hell
And cupboards full of wild beasts.

I left behind
The childhood tales
Of wonder and horror
And the adult waiting room
Of perpetual torpor.

Well, here am I,
Fairy of the Elysian lawns
Here the nightingale
And there the bluebell,
The murmur of divine songs.

Goodbye monsters, goodbye ogres,
I cannot wish you good day.
You’re the stuff that life is made of
While I’m in heaven to stay.

It’s only sometimes
When I’m shaping mortals
Out of the clay
The Master has given me,
Do I strain to hear
The tolling of the Inchcape Bells
Deep in the hell of the sea.