The Book

I opened a book
and a hand fell out.
I turned a page
and heard a shout:
‘I’m lost in a wood;
my mother’s no good.’
I couldn’t bear to look
so I closed the book.

But the girl called out:
‘Don’t leave me here;
I need you to help me.’
I was cold with fear
so the book stayed shut.
I put it back on the shelf;
put it out of my mind
but then –
it opened itself.
Right there in front of me
it opened up wide
and I heard a voice say,
‘Come inside.’

The hand that fell out
jumped back in the book,
the girl inside
gave me a long cool look
and before I knew it
I was in that wood,
running and running
as fast as I could,
running and running
as fast as I could,
running and running
as fast as I could . . .

from Michael Rosen's Big Book of Bad Things (Puffin, 2010) Michael Rosen, used by permission of the author.

Michael Rosen in the Poetry Store

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