#books

Books

Books they are 

relics of information

 

Words etched into the

papyrus

 

Hieroglyphs of the past,

temporary fleeting archives

 

An organic living

story 

 

A tactile experience

of sensual pleasure

 

A book is not

something  to disrespect or burn

 
But to 

Preserve 

 

The smell of the aging paper

is an odor worth savoring 

 

The book is organic matter,

not the soulless digital file

 

The book is real,

something you can feel

 

 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 
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ON THE SHOULDERS OF AUTHORS

It hasn’t been all bad…this quarantine we’ve been on

For instance I can’t believe some of the wonders I have seen 

and the places I have gone.

 

No, I haven’t actually been anywhere, of course, that would be wrong…

but luckily I have the shoulders of authors who let me ride along….

 

Yesterday wearing a hat and pipe and my requisite wisdom and grace

I was with Dr. Watson in England helping Sherlock solve a case.

 

Today I’m riding a noble steed…and it’s anybody’s guess…

Will I be slaying a dragon…

guarding a king…

or saving a damsel in distress?

 

Tomorrow I may wrest victory from the edges of my doom

I may storm a castle gate…or open a Pharaoh’s tomb.

 

Or I could be the captain of a submarine…

20,000 leagues under the sea

I could be a prince, a king, a wizard…

I can only imagine the hero I might be…

 

I might climb a beanstalk…or finally learn how to cook

for there are no limits to what I may discover…

within the pages of a book.

 

So when I can’t go anywhere…but my urge to travel is strong…

thank goodness there are authors who let me ride along…

 

Thank goodness there are authors who in this time of gloom…

will take me any place I want to go…from the comfort of my room.



A MOMENT IN THE BOOKSTORE

My family came to visit me in the bookstore…where I was working the other night

I greeted them as they came through the door… with a smile broad and bright…

 

And as they gathered round me…I paused to take a look

and think about how a person’s story…is somewhat like a book. 

 

Each day we add a new chapter, new pages, new paragraphs…new lines

and I was glad on this day…to add their pages into mine.

 

When they departed…when the door closed…with their visit at an end

my mind wandered to other memories…other pages we have penned.

 

For isn’t that the beauty of a family…the host of memories we’ve made…

memories we look back on…memories that never fade…

 

And isn’t that the beauty of a good book…you’re excited to read ahead

but you can stop anytime you want and return to pages you’ve already read.

 

And you realize this book you’re writing is about much more than just yourself…

and you hope when your final chapter’s written and your book is laid upon the shelf…

 

when others choose to read it…in a different time…a different place

 

the memories within its pages…will bring a smile to their face..


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My Grandmother's Books

I didn’t have the chance to meet most of my grandparents, but I was lucky enough to meet my only grandmother on my father’s side who still lives and is 92 years old. She is without a doubt one of the strongest and wisest women I know and I admire her more every single time I see her. She’s been through an infinite amount of things and experienced stuff that has obviously made her the person she is today. I don’t know what it was that made her fall completely in love with books, but they have made her even smarter though I thought it wasn’t possible. Every single time we go visit her, as soon as we open the door, there she is standing, with her walking stick on one hand and a book on the other. She reads before sleeping, as soon as she wakes up, after breakfast, in the afternoon, and basically all the time she’s free (at that age obviously there’s not a lot you can do). What I love about it is how she expresses her feelings and what she has gained from reading all those books with us, her grandchildren. She gives us all sorts of incredible advice on life; she quotes the authors from her books, tells us the most interesting real life stories, and opens our mind with all that information. As I hear her talking I’m just thinking how incredible it is for her to know all these things and how lucky I am that she can share it with me. I wish I knew the exact reason for her reading all these books but I have a few theories. Maybe it is because she connects herself with some of them, or she just wants to learn more about the world, maybe she has nothing else to do, it’s just a hobby, I really don’t know, but I think she’s the person who has read more books in her life than anyone else I know. Even though I just get to see her about three-four times per year, every single day and time I see her she has a different book on her hand, and I’m just prepared for the new story I will get to hear and what advice she’s going to tell me and keep me thinking on it before we say goodbye until next time. 

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