Thursday, April 23, 2015

The girl with a book (A Poem)

She dashes just in time for the final boarding call
Because airport book shops should never be missed
She adores browsing second-hand book stores
They smell of memories... like a long-forgotten kiss

Bookmarks are more than mere page pointers
They are used to pause a story; and start a dream
Dog ears are a strict no-no, never-ever
They bother her like dark coulds blocking a sun beam

Old friends are lost, new strangers don't even count
As she has her nose in her book, all profound
Hopelessly lost in the world of another's making
Immune to glances, unperturbed by sounds

The back of rickshaw, or on a sunny deck chair
Steps of a chaotic road corner, or a cafe by the beach
Sneaking through pages before meetings, between dinners
A book (or two) is always within her reach

When a story is over, a part of her dies a little death
When she opens the first crisp pages of a new one
She enlivens and brightens once again
For her mind to skip, to sing, to dance, to run

Characters are embraced like friends anew
Heroines idolized, villians admonished
Heroes captured in the mind's eye for years to come
Each one leaves his mark (but a few Darcy's are forever cherished) 

Don't stare, don't mind. She's not ignoring you on purpose
She simply doesn't desire that second look
She enthralled, she's captivated
Coz she will always be the girl with a book



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