The Bookstore

18/03/2021 – Poem a Day Compilation



Walking through the doors

There’s an unmistakable smell

Fresh coffee and old books

And just a hint of freshly baked cakes



The chairs are big and comfy

Like grandma’s warm embrace

And the service is friendly

And they’re always up for a chat



Sometimes I go in for breakfast

Bacon, eggs, sausages, tomatoes

A book of poetry with well-worn pages

And a large cappuccino to sip



It’s a good place to people watch

On a sunny weekday morn

The park across the path bustling

With kids before they head to school



When I meet friends for lunch

Chicken salad with sweet chilli sauce

And a cool class of fresh lemonade

Discussing the latest sporting memoir



It’s easy to lose track of time

And before you know it it’s been hours

Though it’s never a problem

To settle in for half the day



On occasion, when I don’t feel like cooking,

I’ll savour a frittata and side salad

And a large pot of peppermint tea

With my favourite Stephen King



It doesn’t matter what time of day or night

It always feels like home

A little shop around the corner

That takes me a world away

Up and Down the Stairs I Go

03/09/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



Up and down the stairs I go

With my bag of books in tow

From the bookshop to my door

Anticipating what’s in store

With Titus O’Reily’s sardonic style

And Darren Naish’s prehistoric crocodile.



I love the feel of a book in my hands

That can transport me to foreign lands

Or set my soul all a quiver

With words that trigger a nervous shiver –

Behold Jennifer Gunter’s intimate read

Or let Roald Dahl your imagination feed.



With all the pages I do turn

Soaking in what there is to learn,

From classics older than my gran

To the science of where life began,

I love the unknown of Stephen King

And the poetic musing of Rudyard Kipling.



Each cover that I do espy

Makes me want to prod and pry

Through words a plenty on each page

With knowledge forthright and sage

We travel through the stars with Alice Gorman

Or the history that Greg Jenner has form in.



I’ll sit for hours, absorbed in the detail;

To hold my attention, they cannot fail.

Come one and all, and read with me

(Like Alice under that magical tree)

The jaunty phrase of William Shakespeare

Or George Orwell’s words that strike such fear.



Whether words of facts or those of fiction

I do not have sufficient diction

To express the love I have for books

Despite the odd and confused looks

I often get when reading Geoffrey Chaucer

Or CG Jung’s words about a flying saucer.



Words can lift, amaze and brighten.

They can sadden, dismay and frighten.

There’s no limit to how we should feel

When those pages we begin to peel.

Perhaps, admire the talent of Henry Fraser

Or see HG Wells as a trail blazer.



There too many names to mention

Without causing a little tension

For leaving out an author justified

And I do not wish to comes across as snide

I must draw a line with Thomas Pynchon

And leave May Gibbs the name to finish on.