I can figure you
When sitting at your favourite jaunt,
You rummage pages of books old,
I can see you throwing a furtive glance
At the girl who runs her nimble fingers through the shelves and undisturbed glides by,
But lest your eyes get interlocked with hers
When you swiftly shift yours,
I can delve into that heart and emote the new-found ecstasy
When you slide into one of those characters
And feel a oneness and an empathy,
I can hear your sigh
As you try to assuage your wounds with wisdom shared auld lang syne,
And when you just come across a heartfelt quote
Which teaches you one of life’s lesson for the day,
I can feel your rhapsody as you nib your imaginary world
Out of those words in the vignettes shared in a page,
I can vouch for your craving for a quiet corner
With your precious bibelot cuddled carefully in your lap,
Making you enjoy a serenity like those halcyon days,
And when you wish time would pause and defer its race,
For I too, love the smell of dog-eared mushy books and like a recluse
Trust their company more than anything else,
Grateful for the sangfroid I have imbibed
To face all odds and sail happily through life.
Painting Courtesy: Tamara Adams
