Margaret Holbrook

April 13, 2013 § Leave a comment

The Library

Scent of wood polish, that and a no nonsense librarian,
Bredbury library and Miss Jackson I recall.
‘Shhh, can you be quiet, please?’
then, ‘and who does this dog belong to?’
I turn, it was Polly, she was mine.
From then on I’m positive I was viewed
over lowered glasses and always with
‘a bit of a look’.
Undeterred and minus dog, I read
and kept on reading.
Other libraries too, toyed with my affections.
Stockport – never seen a ghost.
Bolton – library, museum, aquaria – elephants?
Are they still on the tickets?
Bury – a very special place. Just off Silver Street.
Poynton – books, events, coffee mornings.
Yes Miss Jackson, coffee mornings in the library.
How awful would that have been?


Margaret Holbrook

November 28, 2012 § Leave a comment

Who Will You Find?

Look for the friends
on your library’s shelves,
the ones with unforgettable names.
Surround yourself in the books
of monthly instalments.
Know the tales of
childhood hope
and adult loss.
Let your soul be touched
by the lightness of
Little Nell and her shop
of curiosities.
See before your eyes
the poverty and uncertainty,
the swindlers and the swindled.
A contrasting world
where some languish
in black and white
while others live in colour.
And with every turn of a page,
feel those lines and letters,
give them space to breathe.
They give life to the place
that is imagination.

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