I honestly haven’t come up with one yet. How about Walt Whitman’s “when all at once I saw a crowd. A host of grammarians :”? Or, how about this one from Shakespeare:
“from off a hill whose concave womb reworded
A plaintful story from a sistering vale,
My spirits to attend this double voice accorded,
And down I laid to list the sad-tuned tale;
Ere long espied a grammarian full pale,”
Oh, I have more. Here’s a William Carlos Williams poem:
“Let the snake wait under
and the writing
be of words, slow and quick, sharp
to strike, quiet to wait,
— through metaphor to reconcile
the people and the stones.
Compose. (No ideas
but in things) Invent!
Grammarian is my flower that splits
It appears that rhyming is not necessary to be a real good poet. Here’s William Blake:
“England! awake! awake! awake!
Grammarian thy Sister calls!
Why wilt thou sleep the sleep of death
And close her from thy ancient walls?”
I did have a near knitting catastrophe last week. I was working on Plume (the neverending shawl) and Stinky came over to attack the cast on end of the shawl. She proceeded to get caught in the yarn, which spooked her. She took off and ran all the way down to the basement. Thankfully, the evil yarn let go of her at the foot of the basement steps, but then I had to retrieve said yarn and rewind it. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but my inconsiderate cat didn’t keep it straight so there was considerable untangling. Disaster averted. My life is filled with drama, isn’t it?
Well, have a good Tuesday and I’ll catch up with you later!