I like poetry.
Believe it or not.
Well, some poetry.
I'm picky.

I think I'm going to start posting some of my favourites on here, every now and then. To get the ball rolling, I offer one of my most loved:

He Wishes For The Clothes of Heaven

Had I the heaven's embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

(W.B. Yeats)