Rubies and emeralds they are,
resting amongst the brown and upright leather pillars,
gold dusted by the sun.
Motes in the sunbeams playing, dancing
on dusty, gold-tooled leather spines amongst which gleam
those of deep ruby, those of dark green like emeralds.
Well used and worn, now scarcely read these ancient tomes,
yet they’re old friends upon my shelf
I wouldn’t be without.
Blessings,
Joyce Bowling
Jean
I wouldn’t be without.
A wonderful ode to them, Loretta; I've got some old friends just like them that I could never part with.