Monday, October 18

when you are old

Today I'm smiling upon old friendships. Shared experiences. Walks by a creek. A unique history and lore. Common hope. And in this case, cheesy garlic bread dipped in ranch dressing.

When You are Old by William Butler Yeats

When you are old and grey 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 amid a crowd of stars.

1 comment:

  1. Why am I doing that weird thing with my arm? And what is Josh doing?