An Artist, Photographer, Writer, Poet

Daily Archives: November 14, 2011

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Childhood was filled
with books
and more books.
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The books and
the library became
my best friends.
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Librarians would
keep the spaces
quiet.
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The libraries of
my childhood were
aging and orderly.
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And smelled of books
new and old,
and leather chairs.
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Nothing beats the lovely smell
of a new book hot off the presses,
or the musty smell of older books.
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Dark wood book cases,
books by age and
Dewey decimal system.
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I started young,
the age of 3
taken by my mother.
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She’ read to me
pointing out each
word with her finger.
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Soon I knew how to
read by myself,
but it was a night time ritual.
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My mother said she used to
skip a page or two,
so I’d get to sleep.
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When I learned to read,
skipping pages no longer
an option.
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She loved to tell the story
how I’d tell her she missed a page,
“Go Back” I’d say !
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I hope that reading
isn’t a lost art
for children or adults.
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Reading filled my hours
when otherwise I’d be
lonely as a child.
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I looked forward to the new editions
of authors who wrote “just for me.
Being on the list when the books arrived.
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Childhood dreams,
imaginations and life lessons
started with being read books.
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Dreams continue into
my senior years
between the covers of books.

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