A Piece of History

I have a liking for old books.  When I say old, I mean mostly older than me. Now that's old!  I usually find them in the thrift stores.  The smell of a musty old book that hasn't been cracked open in years is exhilarating.  Call me crazy, but this poem reflects how I feel about it:

The Smell of Old Books

I love to smell the books of old,
A treasure to find; like nuggets of gold,
I search amongst the stacks and rows,
Where these books have been, heaven only knows,
The pages are so aged and turning brown,
I flip through them; can't put them down,
I want to collect them; a piece of history,
And what I might find is quite a mystery,
Inside an old book, once I found,
A handwritten letter tucked safe and sound,
It was written back 50 years ago,
From three sons to their parents, whom I do not know,
Break open an old book and discover the past,
You might find it's alive with memories that last,
The musty smell may not please your nose,
But to me it is like a vintage rose.

Tammy Harvey
written:  4/24/2016

Old letter dated November 23, 1966 found in a book called The Priceless Gift (love letters of Woodrow Wilson and Ellen Axson Wilson)  Edited by Eleanor Wilson McAdoo, their daughter, and published in 1962.
Another historical note: She married William Gibbs McAdoo, Secretary of the Treasury during her father's administration.