Magic Of Books
/As I stepped inside the old book store
the wind slammed the door closed behind me
shutting out the cold driving rain.
The musty odor of aged books,
of things that had been read
and discarded long ago
filled my senses, creating
a lightheaded effect of nostalgia.
This was the place where the great’s poets lived.
A place where the hopeful had written
page after page
pouring their thoughts out
for all to see.
I marveled at the row upon row of hardbound
and paperbacks.
Books upon books some big others small.
Those words, so many words,
all of them holding dreams enough
to fill a dozen life times.
As I stood there a voice as aged as these books spoke
adding to the magic that this place had cast on me.
“Come in, Come in, your welcome to stay as long as you like.”
Time hung like a single drop of rain
reflecting the words on every single page
and I would stay as long as it would take.
By David Painter
From: United States
Instagram: painterphotoghpy