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books compelling light they emitto stand tallor recline todreamof being booksassumingfame, butthose sleepingon sideinfuse a daywith reveriemaking of their incline portals demanding descent. So Poundin contagiousmadness spine erectsalutes Rome'ssupposed unalterable rays, whileHiroshige dreamshe's melting snow at Fuji'ssummit & revealsidentityseeping into ground bookshelves pretendthey float above
Your whole post is a poem, Ms. M.
Oh, how gorgeous. I had to gasp, Ms.M. I've just taken a break from the Olympics and popped over here to find everything turned to gold.Wonderful words as ever from Anon to complement your perfect pictures.I love looking at people's bookshelves and yours and N's must be among the most fascinating in America. However, I wonder if Georgia o'Keefe minds having hefty Hiroshige lay on top of her like that.My own shelves, of course, boast a much loved copy of No Wrong Notes.
Oh, the last one. Serene, Japanese.
I love it when people show me the beauty and art in things I seldom notice.
Anon, such a compelling poem. You dream books so well xxooThank you, Petrea. I'm inspired by the posts you and others create on your blogs.Dive: Thanks--glad I can add to the spirit of the games :-). N is the main librarian and bibliophile in our household. I, too, am always interested in what people have on their bookshelves. (You're right; Georgia's probably pissed. I'll speak to the librarian on her behalf.)Karin: I like that one quite a lot, too.Thank you, Margaret. I learn so much from all my "blog friends" and their blogs.
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