The big friend*

Whence after writing
Losing myself in dreams
A bit of nostalgia whence
Wraps my mind like a comforter
How am I reminded of him
The 'Big Friend' , had been his nickname;

He used to sit on high stool
Overlooking the reading hall
Grave looking faces with specs
Whence news on papers read,

We just loitered around him,
' what do you want? Tintin?
Or Alistair Maclean?'
His eyes filled with humour
Filled our sunday morn's hour;

How after so many days
Whence I feel lost  in dreams
How am I simply reminded of him.

(*note: it is written on a special person who had been the librarian of a club called ' Sports Club'. He used to keep open the children's section of the library every Sunday without fail, just to supply us with books)

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