Anywhoo, I no longer recognize that young lady who - in addition to being able to thrive on 6 hours sleep and bike up and down the steep hills of Ithaca, NY - posted poems on her bedroom wall. I don't remember why she did that. I don't even recall what criteria she used in their selection. But one of those poems, by Yeats, has always stuck with me; and here I share it with you (just imagine Garrison Keillor reading it aloud - it sounds better that way):
|I WILL arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,|
|And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;|
|Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee,|
|And live alone in the bee-loud glade.|
|And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,||5|
|Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;|
|There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,|
|And evening full of the linnet's wings.|
|I will arise and go now, for always night and day|
|I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;||10|
|While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,|
|I hear it in the deep heart's core.|
A bee-loud glade...where peace comes dropping slow...and midnight's all a-glimmer...even to a poetry idiot like me, those phrases sound awesome.
Awesome -- I bet Yeats would have come up with a better descriptor than that.
[And that painting up there, by Kate McPhee, was inspired by the poem. I like it.]