Each old novel; a new lover,

Assuaging the pain of life.

Silence falls over the house, save

The rustling of yellowed pages.


Some profound discovered meaning,

Each old novel; a new lover.

The semblance: weathered and faded,

Long nights at home, I do forspeak.


I covet the scent of your papers,

Each laced with wilting, midnight ink.

Each old novel; a new lover,

Each new parable, an old friend.


Oh velleity, I could set you

Aside, mayhap, but as I said;

Sweet velleity, bookshelf bauble.

Each old novel; a new lover.


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