One hundred years of broken spines,
Rusting Leather, twisted lines,
In silence heard the waxed oak groans,
From shelves that sit beneath the tomes.
The musky smell, the quiet air,
The dust, the sighing tall backed chair.
Shafts of light steal through the wall,Rusting Leather, twisted lines,
In silence heard the waxed oak groans,
From shelves that sit beneath the tomes.
The musky smell, the quiet air,
The dust, the sighing tall backed chair.
Forgotten cracks, and 'neath the door.
A thousand lives in one aisle reside,
Sleeping soundly side by side.
A dozy, very learned mouse,
In Betjeman has made his house.
Well thumbed pages gilt and bound,
Ink stains camoflauge the ground.
J. Gutenberg's sole legacy,
One for all, and all to read.
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