Unopened books

I am an Island, the bare earth;
My shores enforced by these
shelf-lined, towering walls.

Dark blue bindings of the deeps,
Red gilt linings of the sky.

I am a Prisoner, a trapped mind;
Locked in an echoing cell
of Penguin, Virago and Everyman.

Dark superior stare of the classics,
Teasing glints from Kid's corner.

I am an Explorer, a happy searcher,
Marking my distance
by means of ill-placed shelves.

Adventuring through the genres,
Treasures in the "For sale" section.

I am a Poet, overcome,
by these unopened books.

Frozen printed points of view,
captured moments in time,
silently expectant of discovery.

And all may not be opened,
Intimidation makes me
An Island, a Prisoner.