The Bookstall

[Unregistered]

That was really cool!

[cs]

You didn't make that up yourself! They're called COPYRIGHT LAWS!

[Michael]

What a truly beautiful poem. And it expresses, far better than prose ever could, precisely my own feelings when I read this book.

[Jo]

I agree - I've read it before. Shame!

[judy]

What a lovely piece. Thank you so much for that window. I do believe that these dear friends of ours have given us so much. In my darkest hours they have been there to remind me that they also ventured into the wildwood but too, they repacked and repacked the picnic basket. thanks again, judy

[Arthur Seeley]

Tales told by the wind <br>and memories<br>stirred in the leaves <br>of a battered brown book.<br><br>I have rolled with Mole through buttercups, O my,<br>down meadows of sweet spring grass;<br>trailed dawdling afternoon fingers<br>along the shining skin of a slow brown river;<br>drowsed on a hamper filled with a picnic of dreams.<br><br>Days I have rumbled dusty down The Open Road;<br>been lost in The Wild Wood with the whistling terror;<br>toasted my toes by Badger’s winter fire;<br>curled with Portly, serene and silent,<br>safe with The Piper at the Gates of Dawn.<br><br>Golden days of an English summer<br>shimmer and fade; years glitter and die.<br>Milestone on my journey into literacy;<br>an old friendship renewed <br>deep in a pile of tumbled books ‘5p each’.<br><br>A bauble purchases the world.<br>