My Bookcase Poem by Lynn W. Petty

There is a friendship in my books,
Each a confidant that fits the vagaries
Of my mood.
Alone, sitting in my study, surrounded
By my bookshelf friends,
I find consolation sharing conversation
With Dante, Goethe, Homer.
I find comfort knowing
Their knowledge has sustained the test
Of time and censure.
What solace to walk along the stream
Banks of the mind;
To tramp the hills of thoughtful expectation,
Through an interchange of learning.
My relationship is special.
They ask for nothing but, give their all.
They commit but, never ask for commitment.
They are never clinging, pressuring or reprimanding.
As select intelligence, never failing;
They aspire only to my intellectual needs.
They light my loneliness through
The illumination of my mind;
Giving substance to the images of my brain,
Leading me to the phantasmal embrace
Of Juliet, Beatrice, Miranda,
Or the battlefields
Of King Arthur, Roland or El Cid.
They are the voices from the past, guiding
Me through the fields of discovery;
Filling my soul with understanding.
As shadows descend upon the evening of my life,
They grant me strength.