A world where books filled shelves in double rows, their spines weathered and wise. As I pulled them from their perches, I was greeted with the soft rustle of pages and the rich scent of ink and aged paper. Each tome held a secret, a hidden truth waiting to be uncovered. Their texture was familiar, a comforting embrace as I delved into worlds unknown…

Rows Upon Rows

Rows upon rows, 
worlds wait to be known,
weathered and wise, 
their mysteries alone,
a gentle pull, 
a soft release,
a rustling whisper, 
a moment’s peace.
Ink’s rich scent, 
aged paper’s embrace,
a texture like no other, 
a familiar grace;
each tome a secret, 
each page a friend,
a hidden truth waiting ’round the bend.
I crack the spine, 
I hear it sing,
a symphony of memories, 
the wisdom it brings…
The feel of a page, 
the sound of a word,
the taste of a story untold,
I breathe it in, 
the comforting air,
a familiar love, 
a parental care,
a dance with language, 
a touch so divine,
a sensory journey, 
uniquely mine.

(2009 © Julia Delaney)


Be Alive 🌱
Love ❤️, Julia



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