An Old Book Shop
~~*~~
I so like books and books,
and go each day for looks;
in odd book shops and such,
old books I love to touch.
On a page that is aged,
are those words that once raged;
words that once a pen bled,
from a pen- long, long dead.
The dye faint- poor the stain,
on this day of dark rain;
there is dirt on my hands,
in this shop of whirl fans.
With just the books and me,
dim light- so hard to see;
I love this place of dust,
and go there as I must.
My words will soon be lost,
in a box my words tossed;
Will a girl come for looks,
at old books, books and books?
__________________________
February 8, 2018
Poetry/Rhyme/An Old Book Shop, I Love
Copyright Protected, ID 18-991-734-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, 120 Words
sponsor, Silent One
Second Place
_________________
Submitted to FTI Blog Series 21 - Books
Brian Strand
Podium Place 2
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2018
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