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mrthursday says it's National Poetry Day, and thenyxie believes him.

Well, who am I to argue with that? I can celebrate the UK's national poetry day. I'll say it's a cultural ancestry thing.


I'm also choosing a poem by William Blake. This is a good Spuffy poem, I think. In as much as any poem can be Spuffy that wasn't written for them. In case you all haven't noticed, I'm on a Spuffy high today. A big one.

The Clod & the Pebble

Love seeketh not Itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care;
But for another gives its ease,
And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair.

So sang a little Clod of Clay,
Trodden with the cattle's feet;
But a Pebble of the brook,
Warbled out these metres meet:

Love seeketh only Self to please,
To bind another to Its delight:
Joys in anothers loss of ease,
And builds a Hell in Heaven's despite.


That is one of my all-time favorite poems. I love the skillful reversal of the language. And hell, the statments about love are darned good too.