Words words words (I do love words!)

How about this quote from Pablo Naruda? Doesn't it just make you smile?

You can say anything you want, yes sir, but it is the words that sing; they soar and descend. I bow to them, I love them, I cling to them, I run them down, I bite into them, I melt them down.

I love words so much: the unexpected ones; the ones I wait for greedily are stalked until, suddenly, they drop.

Vowels I love: they glitter like colored stones, they leap like silver fish. They are foam, thread, metal, dew.

I run after certain words. They are so beautiful I want to fit them all into my poem. I catch them in mid-flight as they buzz past. I trap them, clean them, peel them.

I set myself in front of a dish: they have a crystalline texture to me: vibrant, ivory, vegetable, oily, like fruit, like algae, like agate, like olive. And then I stir them. I shake them, I drink them, I gulp them down, I garnish them, I let them go.

I leave them in my poem like stalactites, like slivers of polished wood, like coal, pickings from a shipwreck, gifts from the waves. Everything exists in the word.