Old Library Book

incredible_artistic_works_11

Old Library Book

Words in binding
fact reminding
maybe rhyming
perfect timing
plot defining
how-to guiding
new word finding
worlds unwinding
masterminding.

The End-I’m smiling!

© Rebecca Sanchez 2017

My first experience with books was in the library at my grade school. I think I read every book they had about horses. Of course in class, it was Fun With Dick And Jane. Libraries have changed through the years but they still hold countless stories, art, poetry, history, and more. All you need is a library card and it’s yours for the taking. Don’t forget to return your book!

The artwork is Storybook by Schnette on Deviantart. Linked with Poets United.

A Writer’s Life

tumblr_m6i0amn1NX1rziwwco1_500[3]

A Writer’s Life

A writer’s life for me
there’s nothing I’d rather be
playing with words is fun
reading out loud when I’m done
bringing my muse out to play
and writing this poem today.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2014

Writer’s Block

tumblr_limu5rYAbr1qa71so[1].gif

Writer’s Block

My book it lies unfinished
that sentence dangling there
the words remain extinguished
it’s like my thoughts are bare.

My first book came so easy
the money made now gone
the blank page makes me queasy
my writing just looks wrong.

I meant to write a story
a word, a phrase, a quote
I wanted all the glory.
One word is all I wrote.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2013

A flash from the past shared with Poets United.

History’s Footprints

footprints

History’s Footprints

Footprints of new
footprints of old
history follows
stories are told.

Following clues
like fossils and bones
things people wrote
things people owned.

They’re put in museums
in library stacks
taught in our schools
some are brought back.

History’s footprints
they show us the way
the way things were done
the way people played.

Everything is copied
from something before
so follow those footsteps
you’ll want to know more.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2016

Written with Imaginary Garden With Real Toads and dVerse~Poets Pub.

Old Tomes

giphy (23)

Old Tomes

Putrefied remains lie on shelves
a mausoleum of words and ideas
overcome by the scent of old glue
stained pages of yellowed nostalgia
displayed like teeth in a death grin.

Dog-eared threadbare hardbacks
every one of them a tiny coffin
rotting patiently for generations
silently stalking to be discovered.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2013

Shared with dVerse~Poets Pub.