Immersed inside a book outside a store
The lady stopped, involved in stories deep.
To break into her mind might prove a boor
But surely one could ask to take a peep.

What novel had she found inside the stall,
A queer old book or volume bound in calf?
Perchance a quaint old tale to hold in thrall?
One hopes it isn't just some worthless chaff.

A strong allure is built from many quirks
Displayed while one has lost oneself inside.
A friend is made by all the charms or works
That bind our interests on a life long ride. 

Please know that when I speak I tell a truth,
That's felt both when one's old or in one's youth.