Library Recluse

 
Ghost voices are whispered, as the pages unfold
As I search out a treasure,
in a timeless story told
A musty, weathered novel, is a measure of pure gold
Leaving me breathless, in the somber library's fold

I envy the heroine, who is fair, with slender build
Overwhelmed here by a stranger, as she is whisked into the air,
then over misty moors, as they gallop far away
Riding in her lover's arms,
at the end of the perfect day

A dreamer's wistful story, with a sensual lover's lore 
Latitude is England, so lovely to the core

Chapters read, I must reread, each time with gratitude  
Brimming tales of renaissance, and elegance ensured
I read, I sigh, I dream and vie, new longings of my own
Imagination's rampant flood, is running through my blood
 

I own the place, within the page,  and ponder through the maze 
My heart will race, as I keep pace to find the story's end,
then find myself within the arms of fiction and a daze 



____________________________________________________
8/7/15  For Isaiah's Contest: In The Library

booksimaginationromancefree verse

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