And if I were to lose my soul,
I’d know just where to look
I’d never find it whole,
Just parts, hidden in the folds of a book!
Beside Rilla in war-time Canada,
Or munching buns and cocoa with Fatty and Buster!
Disappearing down a rabbit hole,
Or platform nine-and-three-quarters!
Perhaps settled cozily in a couch
In 221B, Baker’s Street;
Or maybe beside a lovesick fool,
On the banks of the Caribbean, completely beat.
Waltzing in tapestries, or cathedrals
Or even between two unusual, spirited lovers
I’d find my dreamy soul never at ease,
Always sinking into a world between the covers!
The Pensieve 