The Antiquarian by Spencer Slater

Therein upon the dusty shelves
Lie books with leather binds
Containing countless stories
From a generation of minds
A labyrinth of learning
And a stool where I may sit
To read the words of writers gone
The poets and the wits
With eloquence and elegiac tongue
They evoke a bygone age
Making majesty of a language
Crowned upon the page
With words like silk so fine to wear
They carry like a shroud
Interwoven plots and intricacies
Should be spoken to reveal their sound
And the silence in these chambers
Revere their courtly grace
In judgment I the reader
Become the writer in this place
This lonely career
With a life sentence to express
The foibles and eccentricities
In my shroud I confess
To the mistress in the heart of books
Where imagination was born to stray
From writers who seek inspiration
From words of yesterday

Spencer Slater © 2011