My favorite bookmark
smells of cherry wood;
each time I read, its smell
compels me to proceed.
Sometimes the words themselves
take on the cloying scent,
each page a trip to other worlds, where
adventures wait and beckon me.

I bask in their exotic spices,
the candied plums of each enchanting land.
Golden days and warm Sicilian
nights caress me tenderly.
And now I see the vineyards of Tuscany!

Amid these colorful bazaars,
with their amazing images,
their heady scents of frankincense
and cherry wine, my head
begins to swim from the wisdom
in these pages wrapped in parchment,
linen, lacquered leather:
the passionate papyrus
of all the literate gone before.

And I am humbled.