Old Bookshops, New Books


I like old-fashioned bookshops that drop down from room to room,
And twist their labyrinthine passages in ever deepening gloom.
Where piles of tomes lurk in the attics, and the shelves are badly stacked
With musty books and faded brochures, three layers deep and tightly packed.
And I love the smell of brand new books when opened, crack the spine
And the aroma knocks you back to far more optimistic times.
They should be offered on prescription by your G.P. on repeat:
“Open twice a day at mealtimes, and inhale the contents neat.”


34 responses to “Old Bookshops, New Books

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