My Bookshelf
By Finn F
My bookshelf smells like the dust of an old attic and
the bark of a paper tree.
My bookshelf sounds like the arguments of a brother and
sister as they fight to read first.
My bookshelf feels like hundreds of spines.
When I touch one book my head floods with racing plots.
My bookshelf tastes like the words of
knowledge in Einstein’s brain.
My bookshelf holds more books than
a whale can eat.
If my bookshelf disappeared I
would feel like a body without a soul.
My bookshelf puts the KAPOW in adventures and
the mysteries in the mystery books.
My bookshelf