In a town I’ve never visited before

I go exploring

and walking down a quiet street

I see a sign proclaiming

‘Antique Books’

In an antique store, I think

examining the faded lettering

the thick leadlight windows

the heavy wooden shutters

I am intrigued so I enter

it is everything it ought to be

and so much more

light shines fitfully through the old glass

motes of dust dancing on the beams

that reveal a treasure trove

floor to ceiling shelves are crammed

with antique books

the proprietor smiles at me

and invites me to browse

I inhale the smell of aged literature

redolent with wisdom, wit and wonder

In front of me the past unfurls

knowledge and history at my fingertips

in the yellowed pages

of precious antique books

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