I hope you’ll forgive me for feeling a kinship with Robert Burns. His poetry seems to involve recognizing and elevating some rather prosaic elements of ordinary life; plowing, field mice, weather, and the necessity of taking advantage of culinary opportunities.
I too tend to accept and promote the more ordinary elements, giving them an odd perspective perhaps, but showing others what I see, so that they can see and celebrate it too.
Please excuse my illiteracy, but your world views and literature are a heck of a lot reader-friendlier than Chaucer’s stuff. I appreciate your efforts!