“Library Teacher”

In the hush between the bookshelves where the golden dust motes gleam,  
She shepherds minds through endless stacks—the keeper of the dream.  
Her glasses perch on gentle nose, quick eyes that softly guide,  
With every whispered “Let’s look here,” a world is opened wide.

She knows the call of ancient tales, the names of far-off lands,  
Each spine a secret passport stamped by her attentive hands.  
Adventures wait behind a cover, poised for eager youth—  
She bends to where a child sits and helps them hunt the truth.

From Percy Jackson’s lightning flights, to Twain’s long winding stream,  
She draws them out—“Let’s find a friend inside this fading seam.”  
Her voice, a lantern in the dark, points out a sacred clue:  
That somewhere on these quiet shelves is every point of view.

She beckons to the timid ones, invites the bold to roam,  
She’s keeper of the ancient maps that lead all wanderers home.  
Her craft: to build a bridge of words, to light the kindled mind—  
The library’s gentle teacher and the best friend you can find.

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