Poem: The Secondhand Book

I am a book, remaindered on a shelf.
  O take me down and dust me off,
    I still can bring delight.
Once I was new and valued for myself,
  My pages bright, my boards of cloth –
    Ah then I brought delight.

Now on the lower shelves the readers browse,
  While I look down and mutely sigh
    I still can bring delight.
There once I welcomed readers to carouse
  With me enthralled and hold me tight,
    For then I brought delight.

I can’t believe it’s over and I must
  Resign myself to indifference
    While still I hold delight?
Tho faded my jacket and on my top sits dust
  If opened up my heart holds sense
    And still can bring delight.

Reflections on poetry hunting to compile a program of Savile poets. March 2019.