This poem written over two years ago and edited a bit today seems to fulfill the requirements of today’s prompt word. As I look at those who have already read it, I see only a few familiar faces. (Hi, Marilyn) so I’ll risk running it by again. (The prompt word today was mystery.)

lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown

IMG_1316

Books

The fresh bookstore smell of them,
bending the pages to crack the spine,
notes scribbled in the margins,
underlines,
hearts with initials on the flyleaf,
something to loan or to wrap for a gift,
something propped up on the bathtub edge,
it’s paper sprinkled with drops–
pages wrinkled into a Braille memory–
that rainstorm run through,
how he put it in his back pocket.

Poetry touched by fingers.
Single words met by lips.
Words pored over by candlelight or flashlight
in a sleeping bag or in a hut with no electricity.
Books pushed into backpacks
and under table legs for leveling.

Paper that soaked up
the oil from fingers
of the reader
consuming popcorn
or chocolate chip cookies
in lieu of the romance on the pages–
finger food served with brain food.
Passions wrapped in paper and ink–
the allure of a book and the tactile comfort.
The soul of a…

View original post 311 more words

5 thoughts on “Books

    1. lifelessons Post author

      Ha. I don’t take great care of my own books but do take care of the ones loaned. Of course no one wants to drop a Kindle in the bathtub. My dogs did knock mine into the pool, where I found it days later. No, it did not work.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
  1. Anton Wills-Eve

    Oh Judy, how alike are our loves if not our lives. I adored your reflections on books and particularly empathised with your pondering on what will happen to them in our digital world. My youngest son, Benedict, who is 27 and almost a PhD, (next year) is inventing software that will stagger you and me by making the written word instantly available, in all lanuages to everyone, in seconds. Dear God, to what did I give life? He’s 27 and he and his wife have just bought their own house, thus leaving me and my wife Pammie, I’ve always loved US diminutives, with 24 rooms to ourselves. But in them we have more than 14,000 books all of which have been read – maybe not all by us :). But what you’ll love is her reaction to my suggestion that we might donate some to charity bookshops. “What! Ton! (she always calls me that) You’d part with our treasures? No way, you know we live for them. Okay our family are all married and no longer with us, but these are different, some are more than 300 years old. They and all they contain are part of you and me.” Well, with a wife like that, who shares your beautifully expressed bibliophilic encomium, what could I say? “Of course, they stay”. xx Anton

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
      1. Anton Wills-Eve

        Oh Judy, you made it too easy. A detective story written in 1936. “Twice round the clock” by Billie Houston. Why? It was the last book my mother wrote before she started to lose her health and then her mind. It was serialised in the London Evening Standard, and actually was very good. But she nearly died half way through her next book and never finished it nor wrote any more. A sad reason for choosing, when we have a 1689 book by Leibnitz in German and worth a fortune, but come on, you know me! Thanks for letting me post this.

        Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s