5 books

In the run up to World Book day on 5th March, the BBC are showing various programmes dedicated to the subject.
One little half hour gem shown at 6.30, BBC weekdays is My Life in Books. The premise is Anne Robinson inviting two celebrities (tonight's are Jon and Dan Snow) to choose five of their favourite books which were significant at various stages of their life, so generally the first is a children's book, moving on to school or Uni and so on. The last book is a guilty pleasure and the celebrities are asked to pick one book for the desert island and what the selected five conveys about their personality.
It's a simple engaging format, the interplay between the two celebrities adding to the interest. Sue Perkins and Giles Coran was a favourite, and the unlikely coupling of Richard Bacon and P D James showed that different generations could inspire one another.
What struck me last night was the eloquence with which the books are described. Obviously there has been some preparation before hand but I wondered if, having been asked to do the same for my favourite books, whether I would be able to convey my delight in them quite so expertly?
It seems of late that in a bid to alleviate the groaning weight on my 'books to read' shelf, I have formed a habit of devouring rather than savouring a novel. Trevor MacDonald had a T.S Eliot poem as one of his choices and he picked out a couple of phrases that illustrated his love of language. In my rush to know how the story ends I am missing this element, the joy of an exquisite descriptive passage savoured and mulled over.
Having started to discipline myself to set aside time to write a couple of days a week, I notice that, though my ability to string a half decent sentence together is still intact, my descriptive powers have deserted me momentarily, as if I have forgotten how to look at the world as a writer.
An example of how I would like to write is in Her Fearful Symmetry by Audery Niffenegger, she describes the view from an upstairs window of Highgate cemetery...
'Because they were on a hill they might have seen quite far down into the cemetery but the density of the trees prevented this; the branches were bare, but they formed a latticework that confused the eye.......The sun abruptly came out again and the cemetery changed from deep shade and grey to dappled yellow and pale green. The gravestones turned white and seemed to be edged with silver; they hovered, tooth-like amid the ivy'  
I love her writing, it's so descriptive and flows so beautifully - certainly something to aspire to!
So, whilst I try to make a dent in the ever increasing quantity of un-read books in my possession, maybe a re-visit of some of the old favourites to remind me why I fell in love with reading in the first place is in order?
I'm still deciding on what my 5 books would be - the fun of it is trying to remember books that influenced my in my teens and twenties - however, I'm pretty sure that the list would include Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl, Notes from a Small Island by Bill Bryson and The Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde.
Maybe when I've rediscovered my descriptive mojo, I'll be able to tell you why!