My Friend’s Book Shelf

‘Peer o! peer how do you do?’
Nudged the hard title page
`Nothing new my little kiddo’
Shrugged his pal like a sage

Looking crisp like just-baked cookie
Smiling titles as colourful and silky,
Smelling the same as the pulp of a tree
Whiling away their days just free

Adorning the polished rose wood shelf
Yearning the touch of a hand for self…
Awaiting the intangible pampering of eyes.,
Awing at arachnids’ webs on the sides.

`Gosh’ came a sigh from me at that sight…
Posh do they look, yet something not right,
Wish I could hear what they had to say…
Mashed within, with endless tales’ array!

Untouched, by hands or smelt by none,
Silent, serene exchanges undone…
Novelty of novels never explored…
Narratives umpteen, never exposed…

Hey dear, read me leave me not behind…,
Day or night I follow you behind…
Time and again, it’s with me you unwind
Cried the book in my hand, as if to remind…

Marked, scratched, bracketed, `n’ dog-eared… Folded, book-marked, bulky `n’ withered.
You made me thus…, I was never bothered.
Cried as ever…, with angry face, tailored

Smiled at me like a pacified kid…
Said `You deserve me’… like a final bid, Looking at me and the rose wood shelf ‘They deserve you’ Grinning himself.

Dr. Sudha K K