Fresh, crisp, white pages
With a slight tang of lavender.
Flipping through the pages; like a gurgling waterfall.
The words taste sweet upon my imagination.
Smooth feeling of new stories and words under my fingers.
New Books.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
gee, none of the books i check out of the library are smelling of lavender! nice one. let me know when you have your first solo concert in Eureka. i won't travel to S.F. even if you invite me. ha ha. bri :)