My Refuge

They line the painted walls,
held in oaken shelves,
ancient ones worn and cracked,
others crackling with newness.
Innumerable lines of marching characters,
letters formed by jet-black ink,
they speak in voices entirely unique,
master storytellers peddling their wares.

People relax in cozy nooks,
embracing tomes with careful hands.
They peruse the books with eyes alit,
discovering worlds they'd never known.
Castles towering in ancient lands,
withered sorcerers with robes of velvet,
knights on horses strong and swift,
the glint of light upon swords of steel.

Silence fills the peaceful rooms,
a blessed calm that comforts me.
This quiet building is my haunt,
my own refuge, the library.

That was gorgeous! I was at total peace just reading it! I felt the coziness of the library and just wanted to snuggle up next to a fire and read a good book. I didn't really like "crackling with newness". It felt like a bit of a contradiction adjective-wise. Other than that, wonderful job and keep writing!

Great! I liked it a lot!

But now it's back to my specialty: Fluency, fluency, fluency. The first stanza is pretty good, but after that there are many instances where it just doesn't sound very good.

Castles towering in ancient lands,
withered sorcerers with robes of velvet,

This sounds really choppy. I would suggest reading the whole poem aloud to yourself, and then if you hear something that doesn't sound quite right or doesn't seem to go with the flow you're after, figure out a way to adjust the words or line cuts to make it fit better.

I like the imagery in the first stanza, but you die off after that. Tell me more of the size of the main library room. I want to know what it smells like in there, what you taste on your tongue, what sounds you hear in the room.

Otherwise, really good! Keep up the poetry.