Sheila's Dribs 'n Drabs

I spent my day at a Christmas bazaar selling books and bookmarks etc... Can I give you a flyer About my books; There’s no obligation to buy’em. I do quite agree The necklaces look Very nice and beside’em The hand-creams are scenting The season. A little boy reads And his smile Is the reason for writing; It makes all the salesmanship seem Worthwhile. Giving thanks for reading

There’s something in the silence of books As if the words whisper their way From pages sealed in paper To the wall of ages past. There’s something in the way the sun shines down As if the books are spreading stars in dust The sound of them Flying as soft as night. There’s something in the scent of books Of paper, glue and mystery Suspense, romance Suspended. Then It tingles on the tongue That taste of secrets. Fingers look and touch And wipe away the dust. Page opens wide… There’s something In a bookstore means I simply must buy more.