I sit like Pushkin, amongst my friends ...

The new bookshelves are now filled - 

Sunlight falls upon foxed Penguins and worn Everymans - 

I think of all the libraries I've loved - 

I remember the bound copies of The Hampshire Chronicle in a room reached by marble stairs - 

I read about ship movements, East Indiamen bound for Madras, rick-burning in sad villages, the names of the quality in Assembly Rooms - 

I saw beautiful maps in the library of the Literary and Philosohical Society - 

I sat under the dome of a murmuring reading room, jostled by famous ghosts - 

I can still smell the scent of arcane journals - 

Now I sit like Pushkin, amongst my friends - 

I dream of waiting stories, pristine words - 

17.00

Tuesday 25 April 2017

The Old School House 

East Stoke 

Dorset