So many wonderful poets from all cultures and centuries. Robert Browning has to rate among the top for me. I can’t choose an absolute favourite for as my moods change so does my need for different poetry. From Browning’s very long poem ‘Pippa Passes’ the most imaginative drawing of the start of a new day:

Faster and more fast,
O’er night’s brim, day boils at last;
Boils, pure gold, o’er the cloud-cup’s brim
Where spurting and suppressed it lay,
For not a froth-flake touched the rim
Of yonder gap in the solid fray
Of the eastern cloud, an hour away;

But forth one wavelet, then another, curled,
Till the whole sunrise, not to be suppressed,
Rose, reddened, and its seething breast
Flickered in bounds, grew gold, then overflowed the world.

Very best wishes, Denny Bradbury