My book sitting pretty on the New Nonfiction shelf at Warren Library, Warren, NJ

Books Are My Friends

“We cherish books even if unread; their mere presence exudes comfort, their ready access, reassurance.”—Alfred Edward Newton

I surround myself with books

—some sorted by subject

alphabetized on bookshelves

some planted on my bedside table

or teetering in piles on the floor—

all waiting for my undivided attention

to make me cry or laugh

slow to anger or scared to death

most of them are eager to convey

a full range of emotions

and, most of all, to be memorable

I take them or leave them

depending on my momentary fancy

just having them in my midst calms me:

a lifetime of stimulation

a fortress against the onset of boredom

a sanctuary to keep my mind sharp

woe to anyone who claims

“you have too many” or

“just more clutter in your life” or

“that one is too old” or

“you haven’t touched that one in ages”

I have chosen each one in a thoughtful manner

I handle each with care

I do not carelessly lend them to others

I fret when they wander away

when spineless humans abandon me

I find refuge in books

life may crush me

but books nourish and protect me

from unplanned admissions

to a local psychiatric institution

[Poem by Vivian Fransen first published in The Writers Circle Journal Volume 1 2012]