Thursday, November 4, 2010

Poem, Thoughts, Poem

A social butterfly is pretty sad without flowers.
All she can do is hope that some sprout.
So she waits.
So she prays.

And it's funny that things just fall into place.

And suddenly,
The buds appear.
And finally,
spring is here.


Studying Shakespeare is really nice when your teacher likes Shakespeare, but isn't in love with him for the namesake alone. It's actually intellectual.

I discovered Yeats.

I feel like I have discovered poetry for the first time.


When You Are Old

When you are old and gray and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face among a crowd of stars.

1 comment:

MyBlueHeaven said...

Such a wonderful poem. I guess Pappy still likes my face.