Monday, September 29, 2008

Tread softly

Spring in my glorious Auckland has infected me with a strange fever. Poetry fever baby.

My current fave... kinda reflects my mood...

He Wishes
Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

Mr W.B.Yeats. That last line...? Man.

1 comment:

Selma said...

Yeats was an absolute master. So was Auden. And Ted Hughes. To write like that is the stuff of dreams....