Thanks to my pal Muscley for reminding me how much i love W. B. Yeats’ work. Below, one of my favourite poems ever — if not my absolute favourite.
Sometimes you just have to take time to stop and smell the roses, you know? Enjoy.
The Cloths of Heaven
Had I the heaven’s 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 soft, because you tread on my dreams.
W. B. Yeats