Prompt: Write a poem of your own that has multiple numbered sections. Attempt to have each section be in dialogue with the others, like a song where a different person sings each verse, giving a different point of view. Set the poem in a specific place that you used to spend a lot of time in, but don’t spend time in anymore.
1: Lost Pages
In the Reticence Library, a sanctuary of books,
Where pages whispered with knowledge's looks,
I wandered, lost in the words' embrace,
In a haven of wisdom, a sacred place.
2: Dusty Shelves
But now, the shelves are dusty and bare,
The silence echoes, a poignant affair,
The books once cherished, now forgotten,
Gather dust, their stories begotten.
3: Echoes of Youth
I hear the echoes of my youthful mind,
As I roamed the aisles, curious and kind,
Immersed in stories, in worlds unknown,
The library, my refuge, a place to own.
4: Vanished Librarian
The librarian, with a smile so warm,
Guiding me through each literary norm,
Now a memory, a faint recollection,
Of a time when books were my connection.
5: Treasured Memories
Oh, how I miss those hours spent in awe,
Flipping pages, without a flaw,
The smell of old paper, the touch of ink,
A treasure trove of stories, a gateway to think.
6: Empty Chairs
The chairs and tables, where I used to sit,
Lost in words, bit by bit,
Now lie empty, a nostalgic sight,
A reminder of a time so bright.
7: Legacy of the Library
The library, once my second home,
Now stands abandoned, a memory to roam,
But the lessons learned, the stories told,
Still linger, as my mind unfolds.
8: Guiding Light
The knowledge gained, the dreams inspired,
In that library, where my heart aspired,
A legacy left, a beacon of light,
Guiding me, even in the darkest night.
9: Farewell
So, I bid farewell to that cherished place,
With gratitude, love, and a solemn grace,
For the memories made, the lessons learned,
In that abandoned library, forever yearned.
- Oizys.
A poem I can identify with, Oizys. I used to haunt the library at school as well as the public one and, in more recent years, I volunteered at local libraries – until the pandemic. I miss it. The phrase ‘a sanctuary of books’ is perfect. However, I think the Dusty Shelves stanza would read better if you swapped ‘forgotten’ and ‘begotten’ as follows:
ReplyDeleteThe books once cherished, stories begotten,
Gather dust, now forgotten’.
I could relate to this totally. Was a real bookworm in school. The joy of learning, understanding things which were beyond our knowledge gave such joy.
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