royalty and poetry

So, this is what I've been doing with my paws just recently, 

It's for my sis (don't look Sarah!) and it's only half finished. The pattern is from Claire at the Crochet Spot  (love those guys!), and it's way easier than it looks and SUPER instant gratificationy (my favourite.) I'll be overdying it, maybe yellow, maybe tourquise; something springy at any rate.

The other thing of note (well, to me) is that my bear has discovered rhyming. When left to his own devices he will roll words around on his tongue, making up rhymes or finding them and making himself laugh out loud, 

"tree, snee, PEE".

Which, you guys, makes me ridiculously happy. See, I am a person who likes poetry. A LOT. 

I like to write it (don't worry I won't inflict it on you). I like to read it. I like to memorize it and the say it out loud to myself when I'm in the shower (what? that's a thing!). If I have a particularly strong feeling I like to read poetry that resonates with it. I don't have a favourite poet and I don't even have a favourite era but if it's meaning condensed into the succinctest form then I'm all over it like a bad smell. 

I particularly like an anthologie, because, you know, eclectic = awesome; and it's like being allowed a peek into its editors head. (if you're similarly inclined then two of my favorites are the Staying Alive and Being Alive by Neil Astley (this isn't one of those buy-it-and-I-get-cash things, I just loves them)).