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Bookshop Poems - Poems about Bookshop

Bookshop Osmosis

The glossy acrylic smell of new editions
is cordite to my nose,
an explosive mixture of - need to know.
I finger trawl over dust covers
mindreading unread masterpieces.

Movies ransacked many of these novels,
hearsay and word of mouth
account for aisles
of open secrets and
commonly revealed revelations.

I should obtain a dozen or so acclaimed sagas,
display them on a prominent shelf –
because,

Categories: bookshop, poetry,
Form: Free verse

Lonely Bookshop - Comp

People peering. Printed pastiches.

Categories: bookshop, books, lonely, lost love,
Form: Free verse

Browns Bookshop

millions of words all neatly filed 
silently shouting please try me ,
open my covers escape to my worlds 
i’m so small and neat you should buy me 
here i could browse linger ‘til i drowse
under their awesome power.

but I wonder if at night
when they switch off the lights
and the town begins to slumber,
do all those

Categories: bookshop, books, fantasy, imagination,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

A Small Bookshop

Ranks of glossy printed editions
squeezed into a concertina of space.
The acrylic smell of new books
is cordite to my nose.

Then in softer contrast,
the musky ambiance of the old and well-thumbed,
a well used dust on dust-covers.
A tactile nosegay of leather-bound
classics.

Fact or fiction,
all are revelations revealed.
The appeal of the alphabetically ordered,
arrayed in an athenium
of only passing inquiry.

Movies have

Categories: bookshop, poetry,
Form: Free verse

Bookshop

Of bookshops I recall at least a few.
They dwell inside my mind, for with my past
they may have got torn down – those spots I knew
back in my state. I doubt that they could last
with competition from the internet.
If they’ve survived, they’re relics now like  me -
those remnants clinging to the good old days!
There

Categories: bookshop, books,
Form: Sonnet

Banish Me To the Bookshop

BANISH ME TO THE BOOKSHOP

Chain me, so I can roam. Lock me away in this bower.
Banish me to the bookshop - i’ll enjoy this affair for hours!

First editions recline behind smudge-proof glass.
Lock-and-key lick of lips, but I can’t afford the brass

ring, the covet of unopened leather, so I’d dance
through each unshielded shelf, illuminated romance,

the touch

Categories: bookshop, books,
Form: Couplet

Bookshop Bread

Mystique of mouthful aisle eats intrepid footsteps
Bespoke brick shelf scrapers muffle internet tweets
Eyes provide sole light source, borers of exploration 
Closed cover modesty encroaches on curiousity 


Timorous piled rectangles least represent symmetry 
Shifted to stained beige paged, folded back scars
Markers of importance boast creased corners torn
In enthused infusing, informed more with each turn


Tattered stacks of

Categories: bookshop, bible, culture, history, introspection,
Form: Free verse

Bookshop

neatly bound, so neatly aligned,
glistening blue, in perfect rows,
labelled in gilded gold letters,
wisdom packed many printed books,
from left to right a thousand years,
travel time, flick history pages,
cookery across in next aisle,
vegan diets or gourmet meals,
climb the stairs, if fiction you like,
crime, romance, dreams or adventure,
varnished panels, shelves glisten clean
intellects seek fodder anew!
some stand to gaze

Categories: bookshop, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Free verse

Bookshop

As I walk down the busy street,

Categories: bookshop, books, passion, poets, words,
Form: Rhyme

The Bookshop Upstairs

Try leave behind "Book Of The Week"
And head upstairs where floorboards creak.

Where people tilt their heads to look
At every spine on every book.

Where murderers and secret lovers
Plot and scheme between the covers.

Where transport from another age
Transports you to another page.

Where old detective books reside
Each with their price pencilled inside.

Where books based on geometry
Share space with

Categories: bookshop, books, places,
Form: Rhyme

Bookshop

The ‘classics’ section is not small.
Ranks of tightly printed editions
squeeze a concertina of time.
The glossy acrylic smell of new books
is cordite to my nose,
I dodge a graphic array of explosive masterpieces.

Movies have usurped many of these books
Wikipedia factoids précis lengthy sagas,
Hearsay, and word of mouth
account for whole aisles of masterpieces.

There are just a few left,
books

Categories: bookshop, poetry,
Form: Free verse

The Old Bookshop

I enter, the smell hits me,
Old oak floors and shelves,
Walking into a labyrinth
Into which I can delve.

I can lose myself for hours,
In each work of art.
From cover sleeve to pages,
They really cheer my heart.

Travel books can take me
To lands across the sea,
Awakening my senses,
Really inspiring me.

I browse the self help books,
The ones on life and

Categories: bookshop, books,
Form: Quatrain