A Poet to His Beloved

Well, I am now an Idaho resident -- well, at least for the next month. I am staying with my sis Tami who is expecting a baby boy in two weeks! I am so excited for her, and so excited Johnny will have another boy cousin his age.

This afternoon, while playing on the carpet with Johnny, I noticed one of my sister's poetry books and decided to read it. It was about time for Johnny's nap, so I decided to try a new method. Instead of singing, I read him poetry by W. B. Yeats.

When You Are Old

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.