Today’s writing prompt: Where the Books Go
“If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing badly.”The purpose of the #JustWrite prompts is to encourage the writing practice itself. You can write your prompt from the picture or the title. Don’t think. Don’t edit. Just write.
When you respond to someone else’s writing practice, please do so with something nice and encouraging about the writing. If you can, find something specific and concrete to praise, but remember we’re not expecting perfection from this practice. What we’re really praising is the effort.
There are only three rules for #JustWrite:
1) No editing.
2) No criticizing.
3) Have fun.
Please share your #JustWrite responses here,
or respond to someone else’s writing practice here.
If you’re new to #JustWrite, you can find out more here and here.
Where the books go…
When leaves must leave,
And words must flow,
Where do the books go?
Into the mind,
Into our dreams,
Round and about subconscious schemes,
Inside, the books, you’ll find.
There, paper borne ink
Transcends noun, verb, and adjective
Into something more subjective,
Transformed in a blink.
Read blue and green,
Read orange and yellow,
So are the colours read,
Rainbowed across scenes fantastic and mundane
Where do the books go?
Anywhere they like,
Everywhen they please,
Hailing our souls from our hearts,
And returning them expanded to our breasts.
That’s where the books go.
The denim stretches over the knee that’s propped up and a purring cat stretches over the one that lays flat. Fat green pillows support her head and back against the black head board, and her glasses are falling down her face yet again. She really needs to get them fixed. She won’t, not because she can’t but because the moment she takes them off, she will forget.
She always has her nose in a book. When she doesn’t there are things that need to be attended to and the stories float away, along with her memory for fixing her glasses. The stories come back the moment she opens the book again. She reminds herself as she places the glasses on her nose and leans back to get lost in a grand adventure that she needs to write a note so she remembers, but she never does. The stories take over so quickly.
She has a historical romance on the passenger seat of the car for her time at the stop lights or waiting for an oil change or in line at the bank. She has a steamy love story on the night stand for when she can’t sleep or if she wakes early. She has a biography of someone fascinating in the kitchen to read while she eats. She has a history of the Tsars of Russia in the bathroom and a history of the origin of fairy tales where the tv would be.
All of her books are dog eared and much loved and often read two or three times before being placed lovingly on the shelf in her living room to be replaced by something similar. She wishes she could remember them as vividly when she puts them down as she feels while she’s reading them. She marvels that the wonder of the page is getting lost in it.
She strokes her cat and goes to a land where no one can follow her. She is happy for a time, and that’s something, isn’t it?
I really enjoyed this Mike. I especially like “anywhere they like, everywhen they please,” Very nice wording.
This is my life! Except my glasses don’t need to be fixed. I love this little piece — especially that there’s a book where the tv should be.
Mike, this is lovely! I especially like the stanza about the colors and the wordplay with “read.”