On an island horseshoe kingdom, e’en more,
Upon the firth Eastsound, I found magic;
I knew at once upon entrance, tragic
‘Twould be should I resist its vellichor.
In my mind’s eye a book is grand transport
Castles, maidens, dragons, battles, brav’ry
Heroes, villains lock in mortal combat
Certain outcome? Never! Should we abort?
Old books contain in mystic musty smells
Such an aromatic ambiance
iPads, Kindles and Nooks will never spell
The joy weighted in print’s etched permanence.
So lost in vellichor I would spend hours
Touching, browsing, exhaust financial pow’rs
© 2017 David W. Palmer