Poems by Brother Ollie: the Tired Monk
there's a heavines here but only like the pressure of weather systems, not weight to carry. it's a good place to be - as though anything might happen in or after the silence.xoerin
Oh I know this book stack bliss, always a huge toppling stack at hand, for plunging in. I love how the tired monk sees these things, and sets them forth - all the small joys of a contented heart. I love your poems, Ollie.
*grin*I was just indulging in some of that sort of bliss earlier today. Nothing like a mocha, a good book, and a funky little place to hang out in of an afternoon. :-)
Nothing like a whole stack of books to make you feel like there aren't really any storms in the world.
Oh, I do love this one. So comforting to be surrounded by stacks of books. "Book stack bliss," indeed :)
I used to dream of living in a library. Sleeping on a bed of books. Eating off a table of books. They're like bricks. As for reading them I was afraid they'd cut me. I was a troubled young man, no doubt. Now I read them - lots of them - but I think maybe I should stick to only one for a while; be a one book kinda guy. Haven't come upon one I like that much yet. Might have to write it; play god.It's easy to get lost in that place you write of, Ollie. It's very seductive. We might forget about the rain outside all together. Heaven forbid!
The best bliss. Stick a mickey of cherry brandy in your pocket and you're golden.
I think we've all got shelves like that in our homes. Good observation.
love that - book stack bliss is the best. I rather roll around in a pile of books that a pile of money (not that I have tried either...just thinking though :)
Thanks for helping with the development of Olsonomics.