What a discovery
In between
Those yellowy perfumed pages
Of Tom Sawyer.
Your two-dimensional form undeterred
From your first installment of life
Some thirty odd years ago.
Immortal shell, you
Unlike your wind torn
Finally winter buried friends
Now of new purpose - As ornament,
As fossil, own a new beauty.
I dare not peel your fragility,
Your thin, dried silk like skin.
The new epoch which has now found you,
Daisy and Forget-me-not entwined
In still-life, frozen, embraced;
I gently close the book, closing
Your new chapter against the page
Leaving you for the next to discover.
Flicking through books and found three dried daisies and a sprig of forget-me-nots. This was my Granddad's book handed down so my Grandma would've put them in there years ago. No doubt they're older than me, and looking at them with that in mind.... Gives me joy in the ponder.