Beneath the Covers
Books are cemeteries where old thoughts go to die—
landscapes of words spread out under a variegated sky.
Bright children might discover them ‘neath covers in the night,
searching for new universes where the erudite
join them undercover to whisper down through time:
literature, history, philosopy and rhyme
Prompt words for the day are variegated skies, bite, erudite, bright and cemetery. Image by Klim Sergeev on Unsplash.
“Landscapes of words” — what an intriguing way of describing books!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi Christine–a lady who knows her books.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautifully written Judy.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is beautiful, “whisper down through time:
literature, history, philosophy and rhyme” But… I don’t think books are cemeteries. They are a small paradise where ideas live. ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
They come to rest there and stay in place. It is those who read them who bring them alive. Actually, I questioned that line as I wrote it. If it had not been a prompt I might have found a different metaphor.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I agree with Martha — books are the place where ideas live as “landscapes of words spread out under a variegated sky.” They may be re-discovered under the covers, but it is the variegated sky that gives them life, and under that sky where they are built upon and continue to grow!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sister!!!
LikeLike
Reading under the covers was my darkest childhood sin, especially since I had to do it by the dim glow of the hallway lamps. Never have I regretted it!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Brilliant, Judy. I used to hide under the dining room table covered by a long thick tablecloth with a book and flashlight.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ve always been a night own, even as a small girl. I’d always stay awake until long after everyone else in my house had gone to bed.. and a flashlight worked well under the covers when I was old enough to read.
LikeLiked by 2 people
You’ve always been a “night own”? I’m betting that was a Freudian slip of the fingers, but let’s leave it. I’m gonna call myself a night own from now on!
LikeLike
It worked just as well under the table, believe me.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Plus you got to observe all those interesting ankles and knees. (Actually, I imagine you reserved your library hours for times other than mealtimes?)
LikeLiked by 1 person
You imagined correctly, Judy. Mealtimes, especially with guests present, were reserved for Max the Dachshund who would appropriate my under-the-table space and widdle into the shoes of those guests he didn’t approve of.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ha!!!One way to get rid of unwelcome guests.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yep, a true indicator.
LikeLike
You are a day and night own.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I just love your opening lines, Judy! So true and so beautifully expressed!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Paen!
LikeLike
So beautifully written. The photo also reminded me of when we were kids.
LikeLiked by 1 person
How many generations of kids have read under the covers? Do you suppose our folks did it with candles?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Haha that would have been dangerous. Have a great Christmas Judy.
LikeLike
You too, Teresa.
LikeLiked by 1 person