Book of poetry

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The book of poetry is a book found in the Unseen University Library.

This is a slim book.  It looks quite ordinary, but well read.
It is closed.

A closed slim book does not have anything written on it.
You read page one of the slim book:
 
   She was so beautiful,
   And yet she could not stay with me,
   Taken from me,
   Back to the Lost Domain,
   Away from the World of Men.
 
   I held her and wept,
   Weeping into her reddish-brown hair,
   Wishing I could go with her,
   But knowing that I could not;
   Wishing that she could stay with me,
   But knowing that she could not.
   I looked at her,
   At her dark brown eyes,
   Pools of darkness, into which
   I could fall,
   And be lost forever.
 
   Suddenly, something (inside?)
   Took control of me,
   And I cried out
   As I let go of her,
   And fell down.
 
   I blacked out but could see
   And hear what was about me,
   But she was gone,
   Back to the Lost Domain,
   Away from the World of Men.
 
   And now, all I have
   Is a painting,
   A fair replica,
   But not fair enough,
   With her hair and her eyes,
   But not her smile.
 
   Did she feel sad
   At going from me,
   Back to the Lost Domain,
   Away from the World of Men?
 
   The World of Men is now but a poor shadow,
   And the Lost Domain has stolen my heart.
You read page two of the slim book:

'Twas fluffy, and the wibbling goos
Did bing and flibble in the sea,
All wobbled were the kangaroos,
And the wombles did have tea.

"Beware the snark, my son!
The nose that sniffs, the toes that shine.
Beware the flubbib bird,
and shun the floppy pantomime."

He took his prune surprise in hand,
Long time the flatulent foe he tickled!
And rested he by the strawberry tree,
And stood a while in pickles.

And as in Branston Pickle he stood,
The cabbage, with fluffy fronds,
Came bouncing through the field of cows,
And giggled in its bonds.

Four, two! Four two!
The green frog went ribbit,
He left it boggling, and with its coffee table,
He went meandering back.

"And hast thou canoodled the Brassica?
Come to my handuffs, my frog!
Oh Fluffy day, woohoo, hooray,
He wibbled in his joy.

'Twas fluffy, and the wibbling goos
Did bing and flibble in the sea,
All wobbled were the kangaroos,
And the wombles did have tea.
You read page three of the slim book:

 As the hour winds down
           A memory slowly fades
                      A memory of the past
                                A memory you had made.

 As the hour winds down
           A smile disappears
                         A smile of hope
                               That soon turned to tears.

 And as the hours turn to days
       I recall your precious eyes
                 The ones that said hello
                           Everytime that I passed by.

 Now the hours are no more
           And the sun no longer shines
                     The stars no longer speak
                                   And the memories no longer mine

 And if forever more
           I do not find the ocean blue
                     I'll know that it was lost
                                   With the hope I had for you.

See also