CLIMBING UP THE WRONG STAIRS?
The young boy liked Dorothy Sayers,
John Creasy and other purveyors…
Murder with glee,
A moment’s notice the boy thought,
He was reading not what he ought…
Sometimes needing wings
To soften a sadness onslaught!
The TIME SPENT with each volume,
He had to cut down, to make room…
For Math homework
Which he tended to shirk,
While reading till morning in his room!