0234 The Book To The Reader Poem by Michael Shepherd

Michael Shepherd

Marton, Lancashire

0234 The Book To The Reader

Rating: 3.0

The book said:

I serve you. And
as you take from me, I
give myself to you; even
before you begin
to read me.

I note how gently
you pick me up from
where you laid me down,
pausing just before you touch me; and
I feel your mind surrendering
with relief all other matters which
weigh down the mind; as one
who sheds his clothes and dives
into cool, clear water on a sunny day

and when you begin to read me, I
feel your hands, not gripping me but
sensing the film of air between
your hands and my cover; the lovely
detachment of a shared love; you
respect me for my outer self as
you respect what I have to give

and when you put me down,
you put me down so tenderly,
first looking for the perfect place
to leave me; with, I sense,
an inward sigh of satisfaction, gratitude, but which
meets the sigh of parting; like
the parting pause of lovers

and, like lovers who have grown old together,
we put out of mind the passing sigh of
yet a different kind; that one of us one day
will be – not the first, that’s easy – but
the second one to go… that’s
the eternal test of love: loss to be measured
against gratitude, the final laying down
on the altar, of the book of life

all this I appreciate;
did you too know this? are we not
fortunate in each other, you and I?

said the book.

Raynette Eitel 01 February 2006

Yes, this is contrived, but with so much love that a poem was born. All of us who revere books and even think they revere us back will enjoy every line of this poem, Michael. Raynette

0 0 Reply
Rich Hanson 01 February 2006

This is excellent, Michael. You've taken the commonplace and wrung something special out of it. I'd rate you but I've decided to boycott the numerical BS and just stick to commentary. The sooner the numbers are dispensed with, the better.

0 0 Reply

Michael Shepherd

Marton, Lancashire
Error Success