My Books

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assorted books on shelf

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Since my time began
These paper-pallid treasures
Have mirrored my journey
Have been my journey
Life’s loved luggage
My mind’s mainstay
Collected and cosetted
Divided sub-divided
Arranged and ordered
Guarded and bound
Glanced at and absorbed
Ravaged and discarded
My bulwark against reality
Whilst being my reality
Promising me a solid future
Proving their worth
whilst bolstering my own

 

Adding to the sum

of all I’ve drunk,

Those words I’ve feasted on

Swollen into my life’s core

Embodied now as part of me

Woven into the coarseness of my fabric

Sold to receptive ears

Refined by other germs of passage

Now become the amalgam that is me

And part of every book I’ve ever read.

 

 

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6 thoughts on “My Books”

  1. Roland, I have read this poem a few times this morning with such delight. It is a ” keeper”
    and I have copied it for my file.
    How I agree with your approach to your treasured ‘ friends’. I have had problems with groaning removal men who wondered if I haven’t read them yet?
    I told them that they are my friends.

    Thank you for this treat.

    Miriam

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Brilliantly put Roland, there is just something about a printed book, whether pristine 1st Ed or comfy dog-eared favourite, that has soul, presence. We ‘know’ each and every one and oh the frustration and stress when ‘the one about so and so by X’ gets mislaid!
    Love this clever and insightful poem.

    Liked by 1 person

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