Posted in Free Form Poems

ode to books

Some were still fragrant
With aroma of printing press
Pages glossy
So white that I used to be wary
Of wiping my hand on my frock
Before touching their pages!

Some were like old ivory
Fragrant of moth balls
And all other sweet things
That had been around them
For long years
Their pages a little fragile
Moth bitten and ink stained
I used to bury my face
In those fragrant pages to inhale!

The lands they took me to
With Ariel and Tarzan
With Flash Gordon and Captain Nemo!
The friend, the companion the mentor
What they were not to me?

Those hours I spent with them
Cant be weighed with treasure
How I long to be with them again!
Oh those irreplaceable companions,
How I miss them!

Sharmishtha Basu