Okay, you lucky people, you get an extra one today as I’m behind on one.
This is one of my all-time favourite poems by W.B. Yeats, 13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939.
He was an Irish poet, founder of Dublin’s Abbey Theatre, the first Irishman to win the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1923 and also an Irish Senator. Not too shabby.
He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
W. B. Yeats
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.