Poems From Books Novels & Stories

“What do you read when you’re not being paid to alphabetize it?” “Receipts,” I deadpanned. “And warning labels.” He laughed. Not loud. Real. It landed in the center of me and spread warmth in all the places hunger liked to live. “Poetry,” I admitted after a beat. “The kind that cuts and then kisses the wound. Histories written by the losers. Field guides for plants that are trying to kill you.” “Useful,” he said. “Necessary,” I corrected.

Looks like he just finished his morning workout. I nodded my head. "All of this.. where did you get it?" I asked as I looked back at the thick books that revealed the titles on their backs. There are collections of books by Alfred Tennyson, Homer, Jane Eyre, and many more. This is heaven for me. "The books were here when I bought this castle." Rhysand replied. I heard his footsteps approaching. "I didn't do anything but take care of them, and repair parts to say the least."

"What is this?" She picked up the note and started to read it slowly. "When you are old and grey and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true, But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face; And bending down beside the glowing bars,

Rae was jumping in her seat with anticipation when I walked in the room. “I guess you found something then” I smirked. “Johnny this book I don’t understand what it is but it is full of acrostic poems but looking at this one particular poem, its layered with more secrets and hidden messages on top. All poems have hidden meanings that’s the basis of every poem but this book is so cleverly written. Look at this page the book and the amulet together- look here,” she showed me the page I had found with the book and Amulet on a stone plinth.

The sky was splashed with brilliant stars which illuminated not only the atmosphere but also people's hearts. Nneoma sat on her bed, munching popcorn. At that moment, she reached for a poetry book on her cupboard which she had purchased at a bookshop during the holidays. It was titled; Chimes of Golden Tunes. 'I've not read the poems,' she murmured opening the book. She positioned herself well on the bed and flipped the pages. Arriving on the first poem, she read the title slowly. 'The Iridescent Stars; mmh… Typical of tonight.'

The crackling fire spat, dawning in me the realization that even in the stillness of the night, there was still warmth to be found. I involuntarily walked towards a certain shelf containing a familiar row of books, my hands scaling slowly through the books there. It was poetry,my favourite while young. back then it was an old friend, a comfort whenever I come to the library after a long and tiring day. I fell in love with poetry, and it fell in love with me. As I opened the book of poetry that night, I scanned through the pages of the book. It all seemed to come alive as I stood there,the large book on my arm.

Sarah sat in her bedroom, surrounded by soft cushions and warm lighting, with Griffin's notes scattered across her lap. As she flipped through the pages, her eyes landed on a section filled with poetry. The words danced across the paper, written in Griffin's familiar scribble. At first, Sarah thought they were just random musings, but as she delved deeper, she realized the poems were about a person's beauty. The descriptions were vivid and captivating, speaking of sparkling eyes, radiant skin, and luscious hair.

She remembered those poetry books that Mattel had re purchased for her. “No, I’d be Omar Khayyam, a loaf of bread beneath the bough, a flask of wine, a book of verse” “and thou beside me, singing in the wilderness” Felix added “Oh wilderness is paradise now,” Regina finished and tried to remove the cloud of thoughts forming around the remembrance of Mattel, her eyes becoming dewy and wet. . . TBC ~please leave a gem~

I noticed he had categorised his books according to genres: Fiction Politics Classics Poetry History Romance Wow! I hadn't imagined him to have such a wide variety of books. It seemed like he was an avid reader. My fingers brushed against the leather-bound spines of the books. Most of them appeared to be limited editions from their paper and bindings. I passed through the poetry section. Selected Poems by John Keats Tennyson’s Poetry So many classic poetry books. I continued forward. Lord of the Rings War and Peace Frankenstein

The books were mostly collections of poetry, with a powerful presence of works by William Shakespeare. “The Tempest,” she murmured, excitement evident in her voice. It brought back memories of her school days when she had wanted to borrow the book from the library, only to find it unavailable. She had never bought it herself, worrying about the burden of moving with too many belongings during her frequent relocations. Her fingers hovered over the spines of the books, dabbing them but refraining from pulling any off the shelf. “Let it go, Chom,” Ladapha sighed to herself, attempting to shake off her longing. She turned to leave but startled with a soft gasp, “Oh!”