I have never been one who managed to keep a journal or diary for more than a few days, but here goes. One of my favorite things is poetry. Another favorite thing is Clay. Poetry that reminds me of Clay is extra sweet. What did these poems remind me of before Clay? I have no idea. Life before Clay is a distant memory.

He fumbles at your spirit 
As players at the keys
Before they drop full music on; 
He stuns you by degrees, 
Prepares your brittle substance 
For the ethereal blow,
By fainter hammers, further heard, 
Then nearer, then so slow 
Your breath has time to straighten, 
Your brain to bubble cool,— 
Deals one imperial thunderbolt 
That scalps your naked soul.

~~ Emily Dickenson

Do you have a poem that reminds you of Clay?