Of Ink and Paper Storms...

 

I love the feel of paper page

Between my fingers; parchment stage

Where centuries of old unfold

Or fantasies of future-age

I love the smell of books, old, new

I quite enjoy the smell of glue

And ink; the kind that makes you think

Or evokes a tear or two

I love the rush; word touching word

As sense of time and place is blurred

And I am he or they or she

In every emotion stirred

I love the sound of ocean-roar

The salt-breeze as it pounds the shore

Of Scotland cliffs; I love the tiffs

Twixt man and woman, rich or poor

 …when spun upon a paper form

A gale of ink can rouse a storm

I love the touch of books and such

The wind howls, cold; Venice is warm…

© Janet Martin

“The love of learning, the sequestered nooks,
And all the sweet serenity of books”

― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow