Beautiful original poems to celebrate our love of bookshops

Books


Beautiful original poems to celebrate our love of bookshops

By Sarah Biddlecombe

Updated 7 years ago

As the number of independent bookshops in the UK grows for the second year running, poets Jen Campbell and Charly Cox share two original poems celebrating our love of bookshops with Stylist

Is there anyone in the world who doesn’t love bookshops?

They provide quiet corners for contemplation, bright spaces for discussions, and unlimited chances to discover new voices. They are places of solace, comfort and joy.

Oh, and they also sell books. Lots of books.

To mark the exciting growth of independent bookshops in the UK, and celebrate Bookshop Day and National Poetry Day, two of our favourite poets have penned exclusive verses for Stylist, sharing their love of bookshops and all they can offer. 

Wherever you are in the world, take a moment to unwind with their beautiful words – and congratulations if you happen to be standing in a bookshop right now, because we’re sending bonus points your way.


Welcome to the Bookshop by Jen Campbell

bookshop day 2018 uk

Credit: bookshop day 2018 uk

Hello, explorer.

Hello, time traveller.

Hello, wordsmith and translator.

Hello, learner and watcher.

Hello, listener and grower.

Hello, librocubicularist.

(That’s those who like to read in bed.)

Here’s a map.

Mind the gap.

On the first floor, there be dragons.

On the second, flying lessons.

On the third floor there’s a forest.

On the fourth, a choir of sonnets.

On the fifth, if you’re quick,

you can discuss politics

with any character from history.

On the sixth, let’s solve a mystery.

When you’re done, pull up a seat,

we’ll have some cake and drink some tea.

Check for crumbs, crack that spine,

choose which words to underline.

Hello, you.

Hello, reader.

Welcome home. 


Untitled by Charly Cox

bookshops in the uk

Credit: bookshops in the uk

Is there much nicer

Much softer

Much sweeter

Much kinder

Much warmer

Much purer

Much neater

Than walls filled with rows

Of heights you can’t reach

Of books filled with pages

Of words soon to read

Of corners to hide in

Of hard sleeves to cry in

Of names to confide in

All without speech

Is there much better

Much safer to know

When the world feels like hell

A bookshop is still home.       


Looking for more poems? Head here

Images: Unsplash

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