Poem 93 - 100 days of poetry
The island dreams under the dawn
And great boughs drop tranquillity;
The peahens dance on a smooth lawn,
A parrot sways upon a tree,
Raging at his own image in the enamelled sea. Continue reading "The Indian to His Love — William Butler Yeats (Poem)"
Poem 85 - 100 days of poetry
I would that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the sea!
We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can fade and flee;
And the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low on the rim of the sky,
Has awaked in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness that may not die. Continue reading "The White Birds – Poem by W. B. Yeats"
Poem 71 — 100 days of poetry
We sat together at one summer’s end,
That beautiful mild woman, your close friend,
And you and I, and talked of poetry. Continue reading "Adam’s Curse – Poem by William Butler Yeats"
Poem 60 - 100 days of poetry
When my arms wrap you round I press
My heart upon the loveliness
That has long faded from the world; Continue reading "He Remembers Forgotten Beauty – Poem by W. B. Yeats"
Poem 50 - 100 days of poetry
I bring you with reverent hands
The books of my numberless dreams;
White woman that passion has worn
As the tide wears the dove-gray sands,
And with heart more old than the horn
That is brimmed from the pale fire of time:
White woman with numberless dreams
I bring you my passionate rhyme.
Poem 33 in my 100 days of poetry
Where My Books Go — W.B.Yeats
All the words that I utter,
And all the words that I write,
Must spread out their wings untiring,
And never rest in their flight,
Till they come where your sad, sad heart is,
And sing to you in the night,
Beyond where the waters are moving,
Storm-darken'd or starry bright.
Thanks for listening 🙂