morguefile |
Stacked in the far corner—dusty,
musty and ignored—an
entire world awaits at only fifty cents each.
Leave me while I
linger
over brittle, yellowed pages filled with
fanciful words, forgotten fonts.
Outdated tales
languish, longing to be rediscovered beneath
durable covers
bound by history. Yes, I’m
obsessed. Whose fingers touched these pages? I inhale the
odor of linseed and ink and paper and coffee. A
keyhole to yesterday. The
smell of time.
talya
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.
“It is a good rule after reading a new book, never to allow yourself another new one till you have read an old one in between.”
― C.S. Lewis
This post was written especially for Write Tribe prompt: smell of old books…
Perfect.
What a vivid picture you conjure! Lovely!
cool!
Wonderful poem. I disagree with Lewis though. Every book, even an old book is new to someone who has not read it whether it sat on a shelf one week or 100 years. Here via TWB. For what it’s worth
Very true Jeannie! Thanks for visiting:))
Time-honored books, “musty and ignored” always an invitation to the writer to touch them and look inside.
Thanks Freeda!
I guess since I’m finished with Alice Munro’s stories, I should–according to CSLewis, finish reading The Bobbsey Twins in the Country, huh? Good acrostic poem.
Thank you m’dear.
Thanks, Talya. When I worked at Dallas Public Library, I loved to go into the book storage areas not open to the public. The smell was unmistakeable and unforgettable.
There’s a book storage area not open to the public???? Wow.
very creative,superb post
Love the good, old type writer format and an original post:)
http://www.vishalbheeroo.wordpress.com, check my prompt:)
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