Books

Books

A Poem by Beccy

She was only obliquely referenced to,
a single line, writ thinly on the flyleaf
of a treasured book, slipping through
time and fingers, that so delicate
thumbed page on page until it came
to me.

'Read and be wise,' it said, 
'to my daughter Elizabeth with love.' 
No signature to cross my palm,
or tell the girl,
whose notes and scribbles
set in childish hand,
from vault and graveyard
still abide; as page on page
I slowly turn, sensing her
reading at my side.

© 2014 Beccy


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Featured Review

I don't know if you have a connection to "Elizabeth" or not, but I felt the connection to this poem for me, I haunt used book stores and often wonder about previous owners, previous readers, especially when there is an inscription in the flyleaf.
Sensing them reading at my side will likely come to mind next time I come across this in a book.

Posted 10 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

because reading ain't loansharking there's nothing to be paid back at some exorbitant rates
of interest. Yet still people refuse it, the spirit of it, the conveyance of humanity; the togetherness
it fosters. Wonderful.....dana

Posted 10 Years Ago


[send message][befriend] Subscribe
ANM
Reading is a solitary pursuit made all the better when shared.... A lovely poem Beccy!

Posted 10 Years Ago


wonderful idea and a beautiful write, Beccy. I've read lots of second-hand books and come across names and references/messages. I admit I never gave them a second glance. your poem sort of makes me ashamed.

Posted 10 Years Ago


This has a haunting yet sweet melody to it as you read someone else's message to their daughter.

Posted 10 Years Ago


Glistening eyes followed the thoughts...
and continued in the silence.

Posted 10 Years Ago


I like very much to come across moments etched in between the pages of a book, a hand written message taking you back in time, or a note indicating a passage or a feeling, at that time it seems my imagination takes over and I can see, no make out, whole lives before me. Old books, old haunts, old photographs, diaries, lost hand written notes in an attic, that's time travel. That's merging with the past.

Moving piece, Beccy


Diego

Posted 10 Years Ago


Such a beautiful poem. I can be pretty distant in regards to showing emotion, but this did get to me.

Posted 10 Years Ago


This is such a wonderful poem.Makes the writer wonder "who is Elizabeth".Most excellent poetry my friend :)

Posted 10 Years Ago


the value of words, of a book....and the treasure of a signature in that book...even the slightest scribble from the author or the one who gave the book as a gift means so much...

and we both read....still, even though she is now gone.

this is a memory.

Posted 10 Years Ago


You writes are so charming and delicate as slipping through time and fingers. Excellent...:).........

Posted 10 Years Ago



First Page first
Previous Page prev
1
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

427 Views
13 Reviews
Rating
Shelved in 1 Library
Added on September 14, 2014
Last Updated on September 14, 2014

Author

Beccy
Beccy

United Kingdom



About
I'm forty four, single and have a lovely fifteen year old son called Charlie. I've been writing poetry and short stories since I can remember. I have always been an assiduous reader of poetry and real.. more..

Writing

Related Writing

People who liked this story also liked..


~Feast~ ~Feast~

A Poem by Robbie~xoxo~