Poetry writing month, theme of Self-Care, Self-Calm as part of the collective whole.
Today’s thrive poem is to mine your bookshelf for treasures. You can loose yourself in your bookshelf. Don’t have a bookshelf, how about boxes of old photos or keepsakes in the attic.
Old Friends and Forgotten Friends
On Your Bookshelf
Oh that great bulging bookshelf
full of old friends
and friends yet to be read
like that history of dreams book
from the UofO bookstore sale table.
There are photo albums galore
to remember the old days
when the bigs ones were little
and the gone ones were hosting Easter dinner.
There are keepsakes landed here
for want of a good spot
an origami jumping frog and vampire teeth
when Kevin was experimenting with paper folding.
There’s my Lego lakeside cottage
where I can imagine the real thing
fishing and writing while the waves lap gently
and an antique landscape painting found at a chance flea market.
The memories flood back with travel books,
an English to French pocket dictionary.
Recipes spill out and stack on top of
a cookbook collection that never seems
to get smaller despite periodic culling.
America’s Test Kitchen and the 1961 Betty Crocker
are the stalwarts of that overflowing shelf.
There are how-to books for someday when-there-is-time
like the “Joy of Lettering,” knitting Barbie clothes,
and Hawaiian style quilting.
There are historical fictions, Viking histories and tales,
Western art books, spiritual books, old schoolbooks
and, of course,
lots of poetry books.
Hello old friends William Wordsworth, Robert Frost, and Mary Oliver.
All this on a bookshelf barely six feet tall and 3 feet wide.
Like a time machine, university, adventure cruise, art gallery, and retreat center
stacked in a small corner of the basement
just waiting to be mined.