Books
Some books are for looking
Some are for nooking and cranning
Others are for diligent disorganized planning
Some open borders
Others are for hoarders
Leave me be
With my sci-fi and fantasy
There is a sea of knowledge to be gained
From the obviously fabulous
To the seemingly plain
They light up my brain
I have them all
Young and old
Some are bleached from the sun
Others tattered from the rain
Whether soliloquy or quatrain
Poems
Whether exciting or ho-hum
I love them all the same
Some
Tell stories of little boys beating drums
Others are written by samurai
And others stay in private notebooks to die
Books
You give comfort
You feed my soul
When the world takes a toll
I wouldn’t be here
Now without you
I will never doubt the value
You bring to my life
You're always there
Whether good times or strife
I want to be surrounded by you
That’s the perfect life
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More stories from Atomic Historian and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Fish Song
The room didn’t smell like disinfectants. Its fragrance seemed light and not overbearing. A soft mixture of lavender and mint permeated the space. No beeping machines or any tubes hooked up to four-year-old Kaleeka. Her cacao skin seemed to glow from the light over her head. The family, save for one and the doctors and nurses exited the room like a trail of saints showing their last vestiges of regard.
By Skyler Saunders5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
Nice work! 😊 I am much the same - I’d be lost without my books. I assume you are referring to the Tin Drum.. I haven’t read it but hear it is very good.
As a book lover, I love this piece.
Extremely enjoyable and an excellent revisit.