I was in a branch of Waterstones yesterday when a thought suddenly struck me: How would I explain the concept of a bookshop to my granddaughter in ten or fifteen years time? I used to like nothing better than a mooch around Waterstones or the now defunct Borders. But it is the now-forgotten Ottakers that occupies a special place in my heart. It was there, about twelve years ago, that I not only won my first poetry prize, but also gave my first public performance and made a young girl giggle. Unfortunately that same young girl had beaten me into runner-up position, with a verse about her pet gerbil or similar, but her appreciation seemed to foster magnanimity! I had no idea that it would take such a short time for so many bookshops to vanish from our high streets. Whereas shopping for my kindle online may be swift, cheap and effortless, it lacks a certain je ne sais quoi. It is less than conducive to a sudden discovery of a new book or genre. So when possible I still enjoy a good mooch…

Oh what bliss,
to stare and stop,
analogue heaven,
in a bookshop!

If it took so long,
to shop for food,
tempers would fray,
and shoppers be rude!

I see a book,
and then another,
one for a grand-daughter,
one for her mother!

I buy a road map,
(fed up with sat-nav),
and a small comic book,
just right for the lav!

But best of all,
after quite a while,
I return to the street,
with a very broad smile!

© Baldock Bard 2013
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