You meet this book somewhere,
And know it's yours forever.
Your thoughts are out in the air
Until you'll be together.
It's might be old, it's might be new,
It's might have scratches, loss of pages,
But it's just yours, it's coming through
You know it for amount of ages.
You can't explain it, you just feel:
It's yours, was always yours, no doubt.
You care about it with fear,
And it inspires you with routes.
You meet this book at one of stores
Among the shelves and pilots others,
And you just know: this one is yours
For price to pay... how much it matters? ...
Even though you are not a native speaker of English, most of your ideas come through loud and clear. I love books, and I really like this poem. Thanks for posting it.
Veronica I feel a deep reverence you have towards the author as a person not for his works. There is this feeling of unconditional selfless love that you have.Such thoughts can only surface in lovely minds.Great concept Super like! ! Shine on! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A good book is priceless. Thanks for sharing, Veronika