The Bookshop
The colours of rainbows,
All stacked along straight rows,
Feeling my hairs stand right up on my skin,
I'm in a bookshop, and I never want to leave here.
The pages they call me,
Call for my attention,
Feeling the weight of each one in my hands,
I'm in a bookshop, and I never want to leave here.
That soft little crackle,
These bindings so detailed,
Markings of readers from times of before,
I'm in a bookshop, and I never want to leave here.
From fiction to sci-fi,
The ink fills my neurons,
Smells like a kitchen much food for my mind,
I'm in a bookshop, and I never want to leave here.
So many to witness,
The keepers of magic,
Friends of these words and they want you to share
I'm in a bookshop, and I never want to leave here.
It's time to close this page,
Will open tomorrow,
I know that I'll find something special in here,
I'm in a bookshop, and I never want to leave here.
Explaination
So, I have a confession to make. I'm actually not a particularly big reader, but I came across a blog post the other day. It was so beautifully written that I decided to do this poem. Here's the specific blog post from "The bookshop around the corner" which I would highly recommend reading, regardless of whether you're a reader or not. The blogger's passion for her hobby can only be admired. Oh, and of course, I had a little inspiration too from Mr Knopfler after listening to this song.
