Shelves of Refuge

By Shwetha Harsha

"To my primary retreat,
My love for you began in whispers,
Turning pages with tiny, curious hands,
You are my refuge, ours is an affair of intellect,
fan the flames of our curiosity
You help me navigate the vast ocean of knowledge and unearth treasures.

My love, in my
dictionary that I carry,
contrary to what it may seem,
the word for you is just a room of books,
But the vision it aggregates is of an itinerary.

You are legendary, just extraordinary,
You take me to places very illusionary
record of a very solitary experience,
scary details there within,
a collection of memory kept necessary in ordinary.

The gaiety details , romance assemble,
it's like a brook is near, peaceful and quiet, just the presence matters.
there's momentary illumination, also permanence in thoughts,
the corollary is there's a shift in thinking,
the aftermath of emotions.

accumulate memory, in moments, driven by zest,
head to the room, that forces you to believe,
in facts, in fact , in words, considered to be average,
mundane minutes to remarkable moments,
local to global, reality in imagination.

Honey! You bring out the best in me,
mushy mush feelings thinking about you
Your Words, Pages, Hearts in books, shows their passion
dearest beloved, I cannot live without you,
Making out with you is what I enjoy.

Intimate Intricacies and Intrusions, mate, every book is a piece of your soul,
You, Beauty!, unconquered, so many conquests galore in store,
Fantasy to fancy, deceit to tricks, performance to drama - role play,
Twist in tale - tales to twist, you being serotonin to me,
Never judging you based on your looks.
Oh! There's a nook, let's hook, my darling

Yours for-ever
Your admirer"