An Immigrant at the Glasgow Library

In the heart of Glasgow,

where old stones speak,

stands a library – a beacon for the meek

An immigrant new to its ancient halls

steps in quietly as the twilight falls

A book lover's heart, that's full of dreams

gets lost among the Gothic arches

bathing in the moonlight gleams

The arches filled with rows of volumes,

a sea of words and an ocean of thoughts

Each page a barque to some distant shores

Nostalgia whispers through the still air

Echoes of home in languages rare

With fingers tracing spines, the memories ignite

of far of lands, now not so far

The scent of paper, so gentle yet familiar,

providing solace for the wandering feet

while the histories merge

The past and the new

Cultures touching one's soul in a scholarly brew

The shelves so full in this sacred space,

providing wisdom, knowledge and reflection

beyond the morning haze

In the library of Glasgow,

under ancient beams,

an immigrant finds home building their dreams

A world of worlds,

a timeless embrace

In this hallowed halls,

they've found their place