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.
Lovely. Books in itself is a magical word, as you know, but you've added new fragrance I shall always remember with your name.
Alicia, here I sit in my little room surrounded with thousands of books with all scents and wisdom you have written about. I really did love this one. Excellent as always. David
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This just reeks of beauty. Tho i do still see some wisdom in Philip Larkin's 'load of crap' sentiment, i'll use this one to encourage friends to read more. You've left me with a sudden hankering for DH Lawrence's 'Etruscan Places, ' but i think i'll hang here awhile. Nice work.