Bibliophilia

"The bookworm" 1850, painting by Carl Spitzwerg


Bibliophilia

Even as a kid, I remember longing
for a set of hard bound Zane Grey
western novels, over seventy of them,
or a set of “World’s Classic Literature”
printed on expensive stock with gilded golden
edges and glossy illustrations covered
in thin translucent paper to protect them,
feeling envious of old prints or movies
that showed me great private libraries
in manor houses and castles, with
twelve foot shelves and sliding ladders
to mount them, because even just
the images of them, of their perfect symmetry,
lined up like paper soldiers wearing
red leather bindings, made me covet
collections I would never possess.

Today when 1200 page novels
can be reduced to microscopic chips
of data, able to be carried in your pocket
like a legal tablet, I still love a languid saunter
through a paper palace, where the air
is thick with hardback dust
and cat box cologne, where pages are bound
and actual ink has stained wise words
into them, words that whisper seductively,
that dance, cajole, juggle, perplex, summarize,
postulate, amuse, baffle, elegize, extoll, celebrate,
chastise, and educate--reminding me
that if one can take the time to hand-churn
homemade ice cream on an August afternoon,
the taste will satisfy beyond measure.

Glenn Buttkus

May 2011

Listed as #28 over on Magpie Tales 66

Would you like to hear the Author read this poem to you?