Earlier this year I decided to read at least one poem every day. I used to read a lot of poetry, but have gotten out of the habit over the last couple of years. Well, I’m getting back to it. 

I heard once that it is the poets who are the guardians of language. I think this is true.  Some think poetry is fluffy and frilly and pointless.  And some of it is, to be sure.  But a lot of poetry is incredibly deep and moving and thought-provoking and powerful.  For it is one thing to write a thought or communicate a point.  But it is entirely another to craft that thought or idea into a work of art that fits together like a puzzle piece. There is a lot to learn from that.

So this year so far I have been alternating between William Blake and W.B. Yeats – two of my favorites. I thought I would post the ones that particularly stand out to me. 

Here’s one that really made me think:

I Dreamt a Dream! what can it mean?

And that I was a maiden Queen: 

Guarded by an Angel mild:

Witless woe, was ne’er beguil’d!

And I wept both night and day

And he wip’d my tears away

And I wept both day and night

And hid from him my heart’s delight.

So he took his wings and fled:

Then the morn blush’d rosy red:

I dried my tears & armed my fears,

With ten thousand shields and spears.

Soon my Angel came again; 

I was arm’d, he came in vain:

For the time of youth was fled

And gray hairs were on my head.

                 –The Angel by William Blake