weary with toil, i haste me to bed,

the dear repose for limbs with travel tired, but then begins a journey in my head to work my mind, when body’s work expired.

for then my thoughts (from far where I abide)

intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee, and keep my drooping eyelids open wide, looking on darkness which the blind do see: 

save that my soul’s imaginary sight 

presents thy shadow to my sightless view, which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night, makes black night beauteous and her old face new.

lo, thus, by day my limbs, by night my mind,

for thee, and for myself, no quiet find.

william shakespeare

I can memorize strings of words, quotes, jokes, poems. Long poems.

Above all poets, and I do not profess to know much about poetry, I like Robert Frost, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Lady Lee Andrews, and Shakespeare. And recite their words to myself when I pair something immediate to a word or phrase written in the past.

This is one of my faves