Writer's Almanac: Saturday Night Edition

There is no special W.B. Yeats anniversary, to my knowledge, nor any relevance whatsoever that would prompt me to share this poem with you. There is a glass of wine on my desk that is almost empty, and I believe that leads me to the - shall we say - more emotional responses to literature.

In my senior year of college I dove way deeper into the rabbit hole of Yeats' poetry than most 22 year olds ever have cause to do, and this poem, these eight small lines may be the only souvenir from that particular trip that I can pull out regularly and sigh over.

So this evening, I give you a small corner of my heart. This poem took residence many years ago, and I can't believe that you could read it and resist its charms.

Had I the heavens' 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.

-He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven, W.B. Yeats


What about you? Care to share a poem that owns a bit of your heart's real estate?