Do you love the sight of your baby reading as much as I do? Over the last couple months I often find Lily like this. Sitting somewhere with a book. She reads to herself, she reads to the other babies, it’s such a delight to watch.
I have a dear friend who I often described as “bookish.” Now as I see my own dear daughter with her books, I’m beginning to think that descriptor will be one of hers as well and I do love that.
I have never fancied myself a poet, or a writer for that matter. I do love poetry and took a poetry course in college where I wrote the following poem in honor of that bookish friend of mine.
And now Lily can share the honor of that dedication. So, a poem for Lily.
Bookish
In my hand, a new book, heavy
with anticipation.
Crisp, fresh and shining.
Pulled open to release its perfume,
the sweet incense I know only as
new book smell.
I listen to the applause
of page upon page upon page,
and again comes that new book smell.
Rectangle inviting me in.
Welcoming words on white.
Perfect corners ready to fold, to not be forgotten.
Slowly weathered, new book
becomes old friend, wrinkled, soft, known.
Its spine creased telling me where we’ve been.
Aged book flopping at my side.
Its dear scent gone, replaced with
the memories of a new book.
Keep your love of reading my sweet bookish girl!
