My Happy Place

Open the vast wooden doors,

the smell of grounds fills the air,

velvety green carpet beneath my feet,

maroons and yellows give the space more flair.

With the thermostat perfectly set to unfreeze,

look outside and you can see,

colored autumn leaves,

fallen from a Quaking Aspen tree.

Shelves lined with expired sycamores,

the irony isn’t forgotten.

as the bundles of paper sit upon,

treated wood and chopped up branches.

The smell of parchment is soothing,

it brings a smile to my face,

I can’t believe an inanimate object,

could bring my thoughts back in place.

Sitting in the cushy chairs,

watching others pass by,

carrying their array of volumes,

that’ll prevent them from using all the Wi-Fi.

While this setting is perfect,

the bundle in my arms,

will cost a fortune.

How could this possibly harm,

the savings I’ve collected,

for this very hour?

Indecisive I will stay

until my common sense decides to flower.

No, screw it!

This bundle of joy,

is worth all this hassle,

but I’ll put back the Tolstoy.

because I’ll never read it.

Who has the time to explore,

the views of marriage,

through the eyes of some whore?

Except.

She wasn’t a whore,

Tolstoy just wanted her,

to be exposed as such!

What deplore!

Let’s get back to the point.

Where were we?

Alas!

Right before checkout,

I feel like an ass.

Ranting and raving,

about fictional labels,

when really this bundle,

needs to be paid for.

The total adds up,

to no less than fifty,

I don’t even care,

this price sure is thrifty!

Ten volumes for that price?

You’ll never beat.

This bookstore is fantastic!

Now time for a treat.

We grab some crème brulee,

from a bistro nearby,

then get in our car,

but before we drive home,

we don’t make it far.

We turn in our seats,

to look at the place we adore,

we drive in front and take photos,

the modern way to say:

“I’ll miss you my love,

with your comfy chairs,

and nice patrons,

I’ll move here one day!

So, we can be closer,

Until then my sweet,

I’ll visit you shortly,

for I can’t help the defeat,

my pocketbook brought me.

So long,

farewell,

goodbye,

Tattered Cover!

I’ll be back soon,

because I’m a book lover!”