These days, I really need to be in the mood to read poetry. When I was a bit younger, mid-high school, it was something I did a lot more often. Not nearly as often as reading prose, but enough that I enjoyed it. I have distinct memories of reading poetry by candlelight. I don’t do that anymore, but every now and then I think of those cosy memories and think about putting a candle on the table while I read.

I only have three poetry books at the moment. One from 1883 that holds my favourite memory poem, and by that I mean, it always reminds me of those warm memories I mentioned beforehand, and so I treasure it. I haven’t read it in a while, but I still love it. It’s descriptive nature poetry, in all the gleaming gold of the sun, pouring through holes in the leaves that shade the forest. Sunbeams in the Wood. The other two I own are Library of World Poetry and A Poetry Handbook. Oh! I also own Joy. Honestly, I don’t know if I’ve read any from Joy. Joy and A Poetry Handbook were texts for university. The Ministry of Song (the small, old book with Sunbeams in the Wood—I’ve assumed the title, as the spine is so worn it’s gone, but I can’t find it on the internet) was gifted to me in my mid-teens and I bought Library of World Poetry from an op-shop, mostly because I love the look of the book and the rest was to read more poetry.

I do also have some poetry of Shakespeare’s, I have a “complete works” that has sonnets in the back. The Turtle and the Phoenix is my favourite amongst them.

Whoops! I have another one, The Making of a Poem. Another university text. I have way too much poetry to not be reading them. Maybe that’s something I can add to my reading list. I should check out some digital poetry too.