My Ol’ Leather Journal

I can feel the warmth emanating from the familiar leather cover,

I trace my fingers along the rich fullness of its supple form.

Many a delicious secret lies within; about a trusted friend or lover.

My personal agonies are detailed from many a torturous storm?

Slowly, I untie the weathered straps that bind its pages,

The sturdy cover aches to be thrown open to reveal my ravaged past.

I pause to embrace the sorted evidence of my life and its stages,

Grossly played out on life’s stage with a beleaguered cast.

I reverently open the stitched cover revealing the passions roiling within,

I feel its yielding body shudder from the unexpected exposure.

Pen to paper pricks the texture of the sacred paper once again,

As another chapter of my life is documented for enclosure.

Ken Ferguson