It Must Be Spring

I've been feeling very poetic lately.

Nothing sounds nicer than a good book and a classical piano.

I wish I could play better, but instead I am getting my piano fill out of my current good book.

I sit around and think. I ponder things. I listen.

Lately, I have not been in the mood for speaking. I would much rather sit in silence and observe.

In silence I can hear the birds chirping. I can listen to people's voices and try to hear the underlying messages. I can hear the wind whistle outside my window. I can hear the creaks and moans of the house after everybody else has gone to bed but the nature outside.

Now all I need is sunshine and poetry. Any suggestions for the latter?