I take you far from where you are
Yet you never leave, but some believe
I hold dreams inside my seams
That can show, entertain, or have you know
My heart is cream or white
And my markings are often the color of night
My coverings are soft or thick
I hold lands of wood or brick
And to get through me can be fast or quick
So speak my name and then go claim
For me to say: “This is the way!”
To great adventures you’ll have with me.
I am a book.