They fill my every shelf and every basket. <br />My sock drawer holds more of them than socks. <br />My closet overflows with them – I cannot open the door <br />Without getting a toe or two smashed by their fall. <br />They stack against the wall and in the corners, <br />Spreading like a plague beneath the bed. <br />They function as side-tables and doorstops, <br />And sometimes stray even into the hall. <br />I cannot keep them under control at all, <br />And just when it seems they are finally in hand <br />A few more wander through the door, <br />And beg with silent eyes for a place to say <br />What can I say? They are so lovely <br />And they smell so very nice – I must concede. <br />Though my mind chides me, knowing I shall never read <br />All these strays I’ve adopted – all these books.<br /><br />Sophia White<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/adopted-strays/
