An Old Bookstore Poem by Lynn W. Petty

There is an old bookstore, on the other side of town.
The owner, a man of gentle disposition and kindly mold,
Changed an empty, cold, commercial store into a warm
And friendly shop. With faith, hope and trust, he stirred
A pound of old Americana with a cup of European flare.
Then, he added good old Texas charm to complement the mix.
The symmetry of shelves gives one a feeling of congenial cordiality.
Their polished woods, mahogany and oak, colored by the hand of age,
Exposes one to welcome warmth and shades of soothing calm.
It is a grand repository holding silent urns of moldered learning,
Side by side, with tomes of modern thought.
So, come, indulge yourself and spend a guiltless hour seeking
Out a seldom-read old book found back in some secluded niche.
Imbibe the long, settled wine of knowledge poured from ancient
Literary ewers, filled with vintage scholarship.
Walk the paths of knowing, knowing they were walked
Before by half-remembered authors, with half-forgotten names.
Allow the spirit of the hour to pass unfettered through the mind,
Where re-awakened literature supplies the substance of the past
And gives insight unto the future.
Rise to the superior society of your own thoughts, where memory turns
To gaze on time gone by, illuminated by the flame of future's dawn.