It's been another super busy day and I have nothing really interesting to post unless you want imperfect tips on trying to achieve efficiency in everyday household up-keeping (too tired to try to word this correctly).

Or I could go grab a poetry anthology and pick out a poem or two to post at random. The only thing is that it wouldn't quite be random since everything is in chronological order. Oh well. Here goes:

Good ol' Almost Random chose some George Darley (1795-1846). I don't think I've read anything by him before.

Serenade of a Loyal Martyr

Sweet in her green cell the Flower of Beauty slumbers,
Lulled by the faint breezes sighing through her hair;
Sleeps she, and hears not the melancholy numbers
Breathed to my sad lute amid the lonely air?

Down from the high cliffs the rivulet is teeming
To wind round the willow banks that lure him from above:
O that in tears from my rocky prison streaming,
I too could glide to the bower of my love!

Ah! where the woodbines with sleepy arms have wound her
Opes she her eyelids at the dream of my lay,
Listening like the dove, while the fountains echo round her,
To her lost mate's call in the forests far away?

Come then, my Bird!--for the peace thou ever bearest,
Still heaven's messenger of comfort to me,
Come!--this fond bosom, my faithfullest! my fairest!
Bleeds with its death-wound, but deeper yet for thee.

(Indentation problems. I'll try to fix them later)

Hmmm. Let me try one more:

Almost Random also chose William Blake's "To the Muses" after I had discluded a poem on account that it was too lengthy.

To the Muses

Whether on Ida's shady brow,
Or in the chambers of the East,
The chambers of the sun, that now
From ancient melody have ceas'd;

Whether in Heav'n ye wander fair,
Or the green corners of the earth,
Or the blue regions of the air,
Where the melodious winds have birth;

Whether on crystal rocks ye rove,
Beneath the bosom of the sea
Wand'ring in many a coral grove,
Fair Nine, forsaking Poetry!

How have you left the ancient love
That bards of old enjoy'd in you!
The languid strings do scarcely move!
The sound is forc'd, the notes are few!

So there ya go!
Fun! Sometimes It is fun to pick out poems at random.