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Jan 2012
As I slipped inside the sliding doors,
In silence, I roamed, the reticent floors,
Searching for an impeccable book.
With open eyes, alone, I looked.

Covers as bright as lemon zest
Glittered like gold amongst the rest.
Each blurb I perused, with bated breath,
To find those that sparkled, had no depth.

I placed them gently, upon the shelves,
To patiently wait amongst themselves.
I knew that they would discover their place,
Within the warmth of another’s embrace.

Deep beneath each cover lies
A soul to read: to accept, defy?
With battered heart and broken mind,
I longed for the book I couldn’t find.

Eyes downcast upon the floor,
I chanced upon an open door.
For there you were, on darker ground,
Waiting, like a dog at a pound.

Your cover worn, and pages frayed;
Intrigued to see how you were made.
Open mind, I removed my doubt,
And with my card, I took you out.

Others scoffed, at my aberrant choice
To them, my disgust, I had to voice;
They only saw your beaten cover,
But I read deep; now I’m your lover.

My love has blossomed, though sometimes we fight.
We can’t always agree on what is right.
But in the end, our lover’s quarrel,
Has taught me yet, another moral.

Although your pages are black and white,
Does not mean, that you are always right.
I feel that there are shades of grey;
That everyone should have their say.

Each night I spend with you in bed,
Helps me rest my somnolent head;
Dreaming of lands I’ve never been
And people that I’ve never seen.

You show me sunsets, on the foreshore,
Make me giggle, whilst the seagulls soar.
A range of emotions you elicit;
No path in my mind, do you prohibit.

Now I, take you, to be my guide,
As man takes woman to be his bride;
For you wrote deep on the tablet of my heart,
I shall treasure you forth, ‘til death do us part.
Written by
Gemma Yvonne
613
   The New Kestrel
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