Sunday, 5 March 2017

Each And Every Day

For many years, I've been a sucker for 'Every Day' books, a poem, saying, verse etc, and my three constant companions are the three shown here. The Tolstoy was a present for my 50th birthday, thirteen years ago. The Words of Jesus came from one of these overstuffed book outlets, and the Read Me, A Poem A Day, I rescued from a damp boys outside a second hand book shop in Leicester. All in there own way add to may day or night, depending on when I choose to read.

These kind of books tend to be the Christmas or birthday present that nobody wants. And after a suitable period of time are discretely loaded into a plastic bag with other non desirable, and shunted into the nearest charity shop. But I love them, they are I suppose a kind of comfort blanket in my twilight years and for that alone, I make no apology.

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