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Click hereAt Scribner's Bookstore late of South Broad Street,
three floors of shelves and ladders. Aladdin's cave,
is miles, aisles of books it seemed to my small feet,
nor hands enough to grasp the largest tome save
one or two, but treasures there to fill an empty soul--
three floors of shelves and ladders. Aladdin's cave
is bright with dusty sun, parchment scented, toll
of monkish crackle and the pensive click of heels,
one or two, but treasures there to fill an empty soul
that needs to know the unknown world, how it feels
when horses rear and cities tumble through the stacks
of monkish crackle and the pensive click of heels.
I sit cross-legged, far away on my imagination's tracks.
Trains of thought ride everywhere. I'm lost and not
when horses rear and cities tumble through the stacks.
Trains of thought ride everywhere. I'm lost and not
alone among this crowd. Paper whispers play and plot
at Scribner's Bookstore late of South Broad Street,
three floors of shelves and ladders. Aladdin's cave.
I love this for many reasons.
it's expertly written.
It's a great form.
And it takes me back to the days I'd do just this, sit on the floor of a book store a read for hours.
Great job
great poem
I'm glad you are here and writing what I wish i could write
Yhank you
brought to life through your words, reenforced by the form.
Mesmerizing, full of wonder.
...drive me into a beautiful nutty state with this form stuff, how the restrictions do not seem to affect image or meaning at all! It takes so much skill to bend words to fit pattern and still have them hold their power! :kiss: