My friend Nancy Franson at Out of My Alleged Mind has been on a journey of poetry appreciation. In her latest post on Tweetspeak, she asked the question: "For those of you who love poetry, how did you come to love it?" Here you go, Nan-girl.
"Poetry soothes and emboldens the soul to accept mystery." --John Keats
I owe my love of poetry to my father, who would read to me almost every night when I was very young, tucking me in with Eugene Field's Wynken, Blynken, and Nod, and other poets. He would read slowly and with feeling, savoring every word. Not bad for a guy who had no more than an 8th grade education. Having been placed in a children's home at age 2, and then shipped in and out of foster care, his other parenting skills were less than awesome. Not surprising, really. But man, could he recite a poem. Thanks, dad. Because of you, Robert Louis Stevenson will always have a special place in my heart.
"Oh I do think it's the pleasantest things ever a child can do..."
-The Swing, R.L.S
*Nope, that's not me in the photo. It's from my vintage pic stash.