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I love the scrapbook I found in a bookstore that carries used books. It contains mostly poetry in it and seems to be from around 1930. The seal on the front of it is a beautiful little cottage. None of the pages are torn and are filled with beautiful verses. I call it "my treasure."

In an old book store, sitting on a shelf,
lay a scrapbook worn and old.
And with anxious hands I took it home,
like a treasure one would hold.

As I opened it and began to read,
my mind went back in time.
For pasted on the pages,
were sweet verses all in rhymes.

I closed the book at the very end,
and sighned for I could see...
The one who kept these secret thoughts,
was no different from me.

The Scrapbook- K.Buxbaum-Prado (C) 2007 Prado's Pen


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