Book Bound

Quiet adventures, waiting like seeds under dirt of life.

 

The must of maybe's wafting through tiny wonders,

 

forcing calm grey waters of mind to hit rewind,

 

challenging new scenes over blue-green mountains.

 

Where possibilities peak at every cloud

 

forming a shroud of imagination.

 

Right here in this sarcophagus of rat races,

 

empty spaces and made up faces.

 

Dare you place tired fingers on sleeping pages

 

to awaken moon-sun thought?

Reviews

[Gandré]

I loved this thought provoking and yet.... a wonderfully lyrical poem! you write about what you see in your everyday world: "this sarcophagus of rat races", ------what an original metaphor!.. you tell us that a book has to be critical and healing romantic and uplifting....you do it with grace, fine imagery and compassion -----"on sleeping pages / to awaken moon-sun thought." --------this was just wonderful. you start and end with wonderful lines of connection, the yin and yang of life nowadays... delightful yet profound thoughts such must be a book... yes.. this was written with a delicate pen. I miss you, my Jenny. love.

[BrightEyes]

there is nothing like a good book in hand; coupled with an imaginative mind - the whole word awaits with just the flip of a page - if one stops to consider it - a rather amazing thing! I loved all the gorgeous descriptives used here - capturing the magical abilities that books bring to our lives.

*hugs*

laura

[Dezaraye]

I love how you've captured the magic of reading in your eloquent words and descriptions. There's nothing that can spirit me away like a good piece of writing. As always, beautiful poetry.

[An Ordinary Woman]

Oh Jenny this really is wonderful. Wow. "must of maybe's" and "tired fingers on sleeping pages" are phenomenal.
This is truly a masterpiece!

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

This si so fabulous my friend... yes reading a book brings the imagination alive... I always have to have a book on hand to read when I fell like it... to kick back and picture the story unfolding is a ruch and your poem really captures that in a very unique way.