A Pilgrim's Place

a poem by tobias kerins, UK

Bound in ruby red leather, with pages stained
Secrets of the past, in this book retained
In a state of rest, centuries stood still
Old style English, penned with a quill

Clouded in history, an enigma of sorts
Murder or mystery, with suspense cavorts
Lost in a library, collecting dust
The read of this book, an absolute must

Medieval England, the battles for power
The comings and goings, within the great Tower
Counsels and consuls, loyalty dispersed
Duke of Gloucester, had greatly conversed

Cloaked in detention, to keep things pure
Stoked up prevention, no need for a cure
A monarch deposed, his wounds was licking
Not long to go, the clock was ticking

Now a new king did reign, time for Richard III
Is this serious history, or gossip absurd
The Princes were murdered, does legend dictate
King on King, an unlikely checkmate

In rows of knowledge, those books you can read
A student’s college, the facts you can bleed
A depth of opinion, a catalogue of time
Unread by many, a cardinal crime

I know that today, we have the Internet
But I ask for you, not libraries forget
A pilgrims’ place, to study and read
Libraries are becoming, a dying breed

Moral of this poem, could be a thing of the past
Keep the libraries going, fly the flag on the mast
Cancel the closures, keep the status quo
In and out the books, maintain the flow

A Thousand Strokes
The Maltese Falcon Vol VI
Just What Were They Thinking?

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