An Unread Book
Who would have guessed, or ever
Imagined what treasure
Lay in the antique bookshop in Chelsea, England?
Long after my fascination had been firmly
Ingrained in my soul –
And though my mind was not on the poet that day –
My steps must have been guided.
Book lover that I am, the crowded shelves drew me in.
Leather bound and one hundred years old,
Almost like new, it must have been unread.
Kindred spirit, his words spoke of infinite beauty seen in
Every grain of sand.
2002 Charles Kinnaird
[Artwork credit: “Christ in the Sepulchre, Guarded by Angels,” by William Blake
Public Domain, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons]