South Africa’s first-ever Book Hotel, the Royal, in Bethulie
Imagine a place like this.
The perfect hotel of bliss.
Endless books to read.
Nothing else I’d need.
Walls of books everywhere.
All you need is a chair.
Never run out of a book.
Just pick your favorite nook.
Read the day away.
Nothing else to say.
A perfect place for me.
Books as far as you can see.
Covering the tall walls.
Even lining the halls.
Stories for me to read.
Nothing more I would need.
A gingerbread house so quaint.
Disguised with colorful paint.
An evil group lives here.
And our town is so near.
They are Watchers for The Dead.
I’m afraid to go to bed.
Come and take a quick look.
Or you can read my book.
THE DEAD GAME SERIES
Don’t let moss grow between your keys.
No webs to swirl around the letters.
Greenery belongs outside.
Words belong inside
On the page,
In the book.
In a world of noise
Where no one is heard,
We could use some silence,
A bit of quiet.
Take a step back
And be still,
Watch for the response,
See the surprise.
For silence can convey
What words cannot.
A feeling or a thought
Hidden in words.
Don’t be afraid
To make your stand.
Dare to be different,
Refuse to mouth inanities.
Be a breath of fresh air
In the violent storm.
Stand strong and silent
In the world of noise.
I must venture inside.
There’s nothing to hide.
The words will lead me
to a place to be me.
The old bookstore.
Do you remember the bookstores?
Books piled high from ceilings to floors.
Pictures and words float before your eyes.
You can read stories of truth and lies.
Without bookstores what can we do
On days we feel sad and blue?
We need a way to escape every day.
A daydream where we can frolic and play.
Please bring back our bookshops.
When I see one, my heart stops.
