The smell of books
The scent of print and paper
Some of them like the best cologne in the world
Some spanking new and clinical
Some sharp and gluey
Some sweet and elusive
Some deeply inky
Some second hand,
old, papery, leathery, musty,
earthy, damp, sour
Some impregnated with cigarette smoke
Some experienced worldy books
The ones they call dog eared, well thumbed
The ones that have lived a full, rich life
The wise old ones
that have the stains
the yellowed pages
And the strange odours to prove it
All the hands that have held them
Turned their pages
In daylight, or lamplight, or candle
All the eyes that have gazed upon their pages
Riveted, bored, entertained, comforted
All the rooms they have lived in
All the bookshelves they have marinated in
All the drawers they have got bored in
All the charity shops they have ended up in.
Things In My Head 