I intended to choose lines that weren’t the most obvious, but it’s impossible not to pick something from ‘Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven’.
‘The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,’ —W.B. Yeats
My poem (written this morning; I’m getting behind) is another almost-sonnet.
The stuff the sky is made of
I’d take the stuff the sky is made of,
Weave it through with spangled night,
Where stars and wisps of cloud are caught,
Embroider it with tangled light,
With threads of gold and palest rose.
I’d hang it round our shoulders both,
A mantle ’gainst the winter snows
And all the hurts the years will bring.
I’d line it with the softest down,
And all the songs that birds can sing,
With salt tang blown in from the sea,
The apple blossom scent of spring,
So these elusive dreams we thought had fled,
Will rise like morning mist where our feet tread.
66 thoughts on “A Month with Yeats: Day Seventeen”
A sonnet indeed, and a rhythmically beautiful one, at that. I can see that elementally woven cloak or blanket sheltering you! Great write!
I’ll return with mine later.
Gald you like it. It’s hard not to get something lyrical out of Yeats’ words.
No greater gift to give 💜
Ooo! Like this prompt.
How could you not?
This is a beautiful thought to begin the day…(K)
This poem is one of Yeats’ most beautiful. Hard not to fly with it 🙂
Glorious, Jane! I agree with Kerfe.
It is full of such lovely phrases, too–I especially like the first two lines.
One reason I didn’t want to use the very famous poems. The images are so strong and so familiar it’s hard to use them in any other way. I’m glad you liked my version 🙂
I did! 🙂
Lovely, Jane. I love sonnets,but they can be hard. They should always be read aloud, and this is no exception. Lovely.
Thank you. I find sonnets very difficult when I set out to write one. They’re easier when they happen accidentally 🙂
I have avoided sonnets…finding them difficult. You make it look so easy. 🙂 Love the imagery of your poem. Makes me feel warm inside.
Thanks Kat. It wasn’t an intentional sonnet. I can’t do them if I try 🙂
lovely poem, Jane 🙂
Thank you, Lady Lee 🙂
Written this morning??? Honestly? How long did it take? An hour? I’m in awe.
Thank you! Yeats is the poet whose work I love the most, so I suppose it’s normal I find inspiration from his words. Once the idea is there, it’s just the details that need fiddling with, so yes, an hour just about covers it.
That was a joke and I can see you’re damn serious. Once again, hats off.
Thank you. It’s a question I’ve often asked myself—can this be a good poem if it hasn’t taken a week of soul-searching and discarded draughts to write? I suppose it should just say what you want it to say, and good or bad, is for others to judge.
And it depends on lots of factors, our inspiration, mood, concentration and so on. Sometimes it takes us ages to complete sth you’d otherwise finish in an hour.
Since I’m not a poet, it sounds pretty amazing to me. But then, all of the above applies to me when writing for my post.
I agree. The only people who can sit down with a stop watch and churn out a set number of words are those who write to a formula. I don’t see the point of just writing words so you can say, wow, I wrote 10000 words today, aren’t I a great writer? if 9999 words of it are crap.
Exactly. Quality first.
Almost sonnet – a new form of poetry to be called Almonet or Sonnalmo?
Ha ha! All the poetry we amateurs write is ‘almost’ a poem. I’m not sure when we evolve into true poets. Maybe when we feel confident enough to dispense with the ‘almost’.
What is the definition of professional poet? One who earn his/her livelihood by writing poetry? I don’t see that happening in the near future (unless of course I do win the Nobel Prize).
I’m sure you have to have recognition to be a real poet. Money shouldn’t be the issue because no one buys poetry anyway.
You dashed all my hopes. I need to go back to buying lotteries 😭.
Just keep writing. It’s fun 🙂
My wife thinks I am having too much free fun.
Tell her you’re adding to your intellectual capital.
☺☺☺Capital with an empty coffer.
Here is the short link to my post today : https://wp.me/p73yZZ-3V4
There is such a tender lilt about this poem, Jane. The form is perfect for it. I went with a bit of micro poetry for this charming prompt. https://jillys2016.wordpress.com/2017/11/17/embrace/
Thank you 🙂 I do like a bit of a lilt with my romance.
I’m posting this just before I head off to bed. 🙂
Reblogged this on Die Erste Eslarner Zeitung – Aus und über Eslarn, sowie die bayerisch-tschechische Region!.
revisiting the past again
It’s always good when you go back to see how you can add to something, not go back with longing, to try and curl back up in it.
It’s an interesting exercise. The same, but different.
As long as you don’t go back and try and unwish it. To be dissatisfied is awful. Improve but don’t unravel or discard.l
Yes, we learn a lot from the wrong roads we’ve taken. When you erase it, you end up on the same road (as history has shown us again and again…)
Erasing the past is like stomping on an insect before you’ve even found out whether it’s harmful or admired its beauty.
Just keep writing it’s fun says it all really, whether it’s how you make your living or just sitting down each morning to put down that overnight dream. “I will arise and go now”
You said it. I don’t know how it feels to make a living at it, must be different to just writing for the hell of it, but I can’t believe it’s any more rewarding except in a pecuniary way. See you is Innishfree 🙂
“The muse is mute when public men
Applaud a modern throne:
Those cheers that can be bought or sold,
That office fools have run,
That waxen seal, that signature.
For things like these what decent man
Would keep his lover waiting,
Keep his lover waiting”
“A Model for the Laureate”
One of his that I didn’t know.
“Yeats a visionary” or at least you would believe so if you have already read his poem “Politics”
And yet as a politician, Yeats was a dead loss. It’s true, politics in Ireland has always been a battlefield, and he just wasn’t cut out for it.