We can read, you and I.

See letters become words,

and words become books

we hold in our hands.

We hear whispers

and roaring rivers in the pages,

bears singing

funny tunes to the moon.

We enter spooky gray castles,

And in our hands flowering trees climb

to the clouds. Bold girls fly;

boys fish for sparkling stars.

You and I read, round and round,

Bookjoy around the world.

By Pat Mora