The Other Side of the Page

Other Side of the Page





Between the covers, when the book was closed
the characters gossiped as one might suppose.
The alpha male, although posed for the win,
still enjoyed her fingers touching him.
He wondered what color were the eyes that caressed
each word of him; had the urge to impress.
Each sigh she uttered, he could feel in his core,
wished his 'i's could see for he wanted more.


The leading lady, obsessively neat
preferred her pages to be complete.
She felt out of sorts when her corners were bent;
but her reader was clueless what a bookmark meant.
Potato chip crumbs and smears made her whine
and being flopped on her face wrinkled her spine.
Not enough, that she had to get her man,
being abused by her reader wasn't part of the plan!

The companion pony, her long-time friend,
loved being held, hoped the book wouldn't end.
He didn't mind the salty tear or a random dribble of wine:
she was enjoying the book and that was just fine.
Quite honestly, he thought his reader
was a far better woman, much more of a leader
than the one in the book, but t'was not up to him.
Yet if he were the writer -- it would have been!

The 'ex' thought she must be really hot;
she muttered and cursed over what he was not.
But she read every night, this fourth in the series
and spoke aloud her various theories.
He liked how she'd get mad and slam the book shut,
how she'd read in the bath, and would sputter a 'but'
when he'd get the heroine back in his arms,
yet again succumbing to his many charms.

The 'mom' shook her head as she read far too late,
she needed her sleep after one more fruitless date.
Why couldn't she find someone more like her son--
now there was a catch, and he needed someone!
She'd inspire him and keep him on his toes,
she'd even manage all his cons and pros.
But no, she was stuck with the witch in the book--
if only beyond the pages he'd look!

But there they all were caught between pages
with no choice in the matter, the authors, the sages.
Just for once couldn't characters rule?
Write the story themselves their writer to school?
But that's not how it happens, that's not how it's done
Unless a muse takes over, lets fantasy run.
The world outside the frame of the book
is only expanded by the reader's look!

It's all in the reader's eye, and the author's pen:
those inhabiting the pages with no say where or when.
Forever trapped, buried in ink,
with no one caring what they think!
Characters across miles of shelves
have often talked between themselves.
They've plotted and planned how to take control,
to interact, to play a role.

Their leader, while understanding their plight,
explained though unjust, it wouldn't be right.
Just imagine, he said, from his tablet on high,
the chaos unleashed if he heeded their cry.
Characters reacting to each of their readers--
a best-selling book-- a psychotic breeder
of actors consumed, burned out, worn thin--
unable to be all that was asked of them.

Imagine being read by millions at a time--
how could they cope? Who draws the line?
Let alone those who never should exist 'in the real'?
The readers certainly couldn't handle that deal!
So stay inside your books and be just what you are.
Your job's important enough; you are the star.
And remember, he finally said with a smile--
it's your world they want to inhabit a while!