The following is a poem I wrote for a creative writing class. We were told to describe a place using a poem. This was one of my earliest works that I ever attempted for a creative writing class. I chose to describe one of my favorite places: the library.
The Library
By Emily D. Wood
The red brick building stands as a king presiding over his court;
The glass double doors open to reveal a pure white tile foyer.
Footfalls echo with each step toward the true destination.
The shelves stretch from wall to wall and ceiling to ceiling.
Books resting upon their shelf-home create a menagerie of color.
Wooden sable-colored tables stand in rows between the widest aisles
accompanied by chairs covered with azure cushions
cross-grained with orange and red threading.
The scent of aged book pages lingers in the air
as the tightly-woven gray carpet mutes all footsteps.
The noiseless attitude radiates from wall to wall,
the only sound the crisp turning of pages.
Faint whispers are heard from time to time,
but the voices are practically inaudible.
The stories within books beckon in passing
as they beg for their secrets to be revealed.
Hardbacks and paperbacks nest between bookends
waiting for their adventures to be discovered.
Copyright © Emily D. Wood
Emily, I love this. There is no place like the library. The last four stanzas are my favorite. Good post! :)
ReplyDeleteThank you, Vanessa! I used to spend so much time at the library. I really miss having time to do that.
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