Today’s quote if from ‘To Ireland in the Coming Times’. I think the following lines have inspired a sonnet. I find this a hard form to write, but this one came without trying.
‘That you, in the dim coming times,
May know how my heart went with them
After the red-rose-bordered hem.’ —W.B. Yeats
She justifies her chosen path
I have never done as much to lift the gloom,
As the robin singing in the hedge,
Nor shouted against the thin-lipped crowd,
From this place away from wave-beaten edge,
Louder than the dog that bays the moon.
I have watched them go, the children,
To fight their wars, nor held their hands,
And begged them think of the mothers,
Crying in all those distant lands.
When I leave, with empty hands and heart,
Show them, who look to lay the blame,
This rose, this unturned field, this place apart,
And tell them I followed the deer’s quick grace,
And the dreams that have filled this quiet place.
53 thoughts on “A Month with Yeats: Day Fourteen”
Wow, Jane, that is wonderful. I really struggle with sonnets – it’s so hard not to make the final couplet sound like a punchline – so I’m doubly imprssed that you make it look so effortless.
I honestly wrote this poem, realised I’d ended up with fourteen lines, they rhymed (more or less) and it ended rather like a sonnet is supposed to end. Something was doing this, not sure how much of it was me 🙂
It’s the spirit of Yeats himself, taking over your pen…
Now that would be a possession worth suffering 🙂
Yes! Oh yes! ❤️
A place filled with dreams…now that is a good legacy. (K)
I hope it stays that way. I’m taking Finbar to the vet today and crossing everything possible this isn’t going to be the first dark cloud.
Sending good wishes along.
Thanks! I’ve just got back into wordpress, was locked out all day. Finbar is fine apparently. Not only is he not ill, his tests show that he’s in exceptionally good health. Vet says he just doesn’t like the cold and has been feeling sorry for himself. What an actor!
I’m laughing at that. Glad he’s OK.
He seems to have gone into a terrible decline again. Freezing fog outside…
Well, I thought it was going to be political and contemporary, but that’s not what happened at all….who would have thought it?
I think you captured just the right spirit 🙂
Always close to home
lovely sonnet, Jane 🙂
A brilliant sonnet, Jane. Heartfelt and true, and so skillfully written.
Here’s my humble contribution:
Thank you, Frank!
Jane, I stopped getting notification about month with yeats on my mobile WordPress app. I now have to specifically go and search under your name. It shows up in my pc though but I am not in my desk till late in the morning. Not sure what happened to the WP app. Did you put some rosy curse on my app😢
I’ve been struggling with WP all day. Bit by bit all the functions stopped working until I was locked out altogether. I’ve cleared the cookie thing and it’s all working again.
I will try that.
I couldn’t even get into WP to complain about it!
I agree with the others that this sonnet seems effortless. Wow! I like that it is hopeful.
I saw above that Finbar is fine. I didn’t want to ask, just in case. My younger daughter and I often talk about how weird our pets are (which we like)–sounds like Finbar would fit right in. 🙂
The sonnet wrote itself like that. I like the way it worked out. Finbar seems perfectly all right now, had everyone fussing over him.
Reblogged this on Die Erste Eslarner Zeitung – Aus und über Eslarn, sowie die bayerisch-tschechische Region!.
I wanted to go lighter, but the red-rose bordered hem made be think bloodstained. . .
Once the image gets into the head, it’s difficult to get it out.
Well, actually the first image in my head was the boy seeing the couple–not sure why. But then it was why did he remember them? 🙂
The heroic dream, I imagine.
Oh, yes–I guess that’s it.
Last I dealt with sonnets was during my high school English poetry class. That was in another life.
They are difficult. I steer clear of them usually.
Here is my feeble attempt to write a sonnet. Love song it is not.
Bravo! I’d never impose a sonnet on anyone, but congratulations on forcing yourself to write one, a protest sonnet if not a love sonnet.
We all grow older, see our children leave … We have to let them go.
We still worry about them though.
We do indeed 😱