Soft, as a treasure hunter, I draw near
When coins of wisdom glimpse from his chest
And suddenly, no dragons bring me fear
...a boy like me is reading without rest.

Long, heavy, shelves of books became his friends
In endless, rainy, irish afternoons -
So, there, fantastic worlds his own attends
As music notes to Aslan's song attunes.

But from the childhood's treshold, stepped astray,
As Edmund did one time, in Witch's woods
A kind of sceptic Eustace's price he payed
In trenches, hidden with his soldier's boots.

...There came a day when ice began to melt
The Allhigh Lion conquered him by joy:
Before his pierced paws, surprised, he knelt
So to become The Land of Faith's envoy!

His magic ink of heart is spread through many
That longs for miracles in droughty plains -
Above his pilgrim's burden's rising shiny
His torch, a signpost for the Heaven's heirs.

(P.S.:

Since I was kid, his works of lovely beauty
Amazed me as few others did:
This task I see so grateful as a duty -
I hope, one day in Narnia we'll meet... )