Bookstore Poems - Poems about Bookstore

INK WHISPERS The quaint but cluttered vintage bookstore is filled with tall walls of ancient volumes and stacks of books precariously balanced, making it hard to navigate down the aisles without fear of upsetting their balance. I pause, breathing in the stale, sun-warmed dust of a thousand stories waiting to be explored. I feel in some...

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Please excuse me if occasionally I repeat myself…If these words you’ve heard before… but if you want a true depiction of what the world is like…go inside any bookstore. Outside a bookstore there are people under the shadow of religion and politics pretending they want everyone to be free… but telling us what books we should read, who we...

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If you want to see the world the way it is… not the way some people would like it to be… stop into a bookstore and check out its diversity. There’s drama, horror, art, music, nature and history. politics, religion, cooking, science, sports and mystery. Any subject you want to read about… the world…other people…yourself… you can find a book about it...

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Bookstores were my life’s mooring Where my spirit felt both shy and effusive Shy, bashful, a girl wearing her heart on her sleeve, Effusive, flowing about the pages – impulsive, Resisting the urge to plow through the words Without indulging in the crisp scent of this new novel. ...

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Anyone who’s ever worked in a bookstore knows we would be kidding ourselves if we thought the only stories in the store were housed in the books upon our shelves. Here’s a little secret bookstore workers throughout the ages have known… everyone who walks through our doors has a story of their own: A woman put her purchases on...

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Working behind the counter of a bookstore I have a chance to look… to browse among our shelves and find the oldest books I love the feel of them in my hands, to gently turn their pages and what’s more I like to think about the paths these books have taken before coming to rest here inside our...

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I love working in a bookstore…being surrounded by the diversity of books is sweet…but I also love the diversity of the people, in the bookstore, whom I meet. People from all across the world walk in through our front door just to browse…to say hello…or to buy a book while in our store. Most people know the...

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I believe Karma is circle…I believe what the wise ones say is true… If you think good thoughts, say nice things and do good things for others…. eventually good will find its way back to you. But Karma has no timeline…we never know the date, the time…the day...when Karma will return….when it will come our way… Take yesterday for...

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When is a bookstore not a bookstore…certainly we have books galore… but I think that sometimes it all depends on who comes in the store. Some people come in for the air-conditioning…some to get out of the rain Some people only peek their heads in and quickly pull them out again. There is one women who comes in…an older...

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A San Francisco Haiku Quartet Oh San Francisco Beat poets Ferlinghetti North Beach was our city ...

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Looking For Treasure By R.e. Taylor I want to go out Spend the day treasure hunting No, I don’t need no map Don’t need no “X” marks the spot I will find it all on my own I want to search the backstreets The alleyways where no one goes Maybe find an old bookstore Not one of those mass-market stores No neon light or organized shelves I...

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Bookstore, Musty Galore Allen's Old Gold Discover, SecondStory Pages of Glory, Kelmscott Shelves Soar & Hover, 1st Editions Scarce Recovery, Fore Edge Paintings Lover, However It's Cheapo Papery, Provides a Comfy Nest Plover, Finding Fresh Author Flesh Scary! Going Broke Buying A Great Cover, I'm Not Waiting 'til Old & Hairy, Grazing Tomes is Similar to Clover, Diet As Extant Goodreads is Nary!...

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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...

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Clay saucer clay pot potting soil striped triangular stone tiny green bud tall bamboo stalk fleshy green leaves held in place by patio umbrella crank sits on latticed black round wrought iron table at Bart’s Books Ojai, California, quiet, peaceful, so serene till a bookstore-hating baby screams....

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A brown man with a full beard passes I continue to read. A young white man--handsome-- stops and sips at the fountain directly my left An old women, wearing a winter coat with leopard print--wealthy looking-- hobbles by A middle aged women--indeterminate-- walks slowly by I catch a whiff of cigarette smoke I say a quick prayer for her I continue to read. ...

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