On this day in 1865 W.B. Yeats was born in the Sandymount area of Dublin.  Yeats is my favorite poet.  I have even made the trek to his gravesite in County Sligo in Ireland. 

  As our man Partridge was killed after reading a very short Yeats' poem I though it only fitting to do a small (but sweet) spam honoring both him and Yeats.....

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths, Enwrought with gold and silver light,

The Blue and the dim and the dark cloths of night and light and the half-light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.