I don't know what happens really,
when I go to a bookstore.
Well, in particular, this bookstore; E. Shaver, Bookseller.
But somehow, I lose all control...
all sense of time and financial responsibility.
Suddenly...I am rich, I have unlimited funds,
and I begin grabbing and sifting through the stacks.
The stacks of which, are so close together, I lose my breath.
They hug me as I walk up and down, trailing my fingertips
among the books that sit there.
I dance in between the stacks,
and wander from aisle to aisle,
from shelf to shelf,
there's just never enough time...
I become immersed, entranced...
with the likes of Austen and Bronte, Fitzgerald and Frost, Virginia joins us too.
My fingertips touch the words on the pages and suddenly,
I am a part of the story,
I am a character in the book.
Passing by every shelf is...
a new discovery,
a new adventure,
a new treasure.
I could reside there and live among the greats.
With hope that I could write anything as exceptional.
Yet here I am, the time has come
where I must leave...the world is calling and I must answer...
Why though? Why must I leave?
When being here makes my heart leap?
The incandescent ambience,
the comforting reminder from this bookstore,
is all I need to mend my heart,
mend my soul,
and invite me to return anytime.
Until we meet again E. Shaver...until we meet again.