* * *

My daughter, she goes through her books.
She donates, swaps or tries to sell
the texts for which she paid too well.

I caught her doing this tonight--
she sighed and told me, "yeah, awright..."
I entered her room's purpling
and stood there as she seem to sing

the titles as I voted nay
or yea, dependent on the gray
matter's definition's might:
"Criminalistics?" Y'got dat right.

Starting up my "keeper pile"
she read another title, smiled:
"'Contemporary Living'?" YES
I murmered I was not there yet,

so now my books were two.

"Guide to Good Food" she said yep!
"I don't think you are quite there quite yet!"
She made my pile a trinity
and muttered that she hoped I'd heed

the good advice within.

"Anatomy--you can't need this."
"Hole's Essentials?"
She pursed her lips.
"Impressive, Mom, I must admit."

My books (once hers) now numbered five.

"These last two are just workbooks."
"Gimmmmmeeeeeeeeee" said gollum, "They are mine."
"They're geared toward a fifth grader!"
"I'd like to think I know more than her--"

She dropped two workbooks on the pile.

"What am I to do with you?"
She smiled.I nodded 'yes' in drool:
"Bring to me...they are precioussssssssssssss...
A gollum for the words I blesssssss.

~thank you~

silvered on the floor.
I flipped my tail and shut the doors--
"My preciousssss gave me preciousness..."
"You're weird." She said.
"Me wantssssssssssssome more..."

*gasp*

(a-heck-heck-heck-sez-I)

smiling as I shelved my books.

* * *