https://www.google.com.pr/search?q=flags+of+France&biw=1024&bih=614&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiJhp-97vTNAhVLGx4KHY7RAugQ_AUIBigB&dpr=1#imgdii=N7XYG3vEgrMX2M%3A%3BN7XYG3vEgrMX2M%3A%3BxeHW9FdKNWlwNM%3A&imgrc=N7XYG3vEgrMX2M%3A
Friday, July 15, 2016
Saturday, June 18, 2016
Thursday, May 26, 2016
A SORT OF CONSOLATION
Slim and smooth
as a teen-age boy,
With hands and lips
willful and deft,
He led me around
like a toy
Duck on a string . . . until
he left,
Taking a great
piece of my heart—
A double
defection and theft.
So I was left with
my art.
tumblr_mz6p7mSA7Y1svn1w0o1_500.jpg
Friday, May 6, 2016
TO THE MASTER, WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS
After the heat
of struggle comes the cold:
Like you, I must resist, now, growing old.
Never without
foes, often unsure of a friend,
Unlucky in love like you till near the end,
Passionately I
take the strength you give,
And wonder
whether my words, like yours, will live.
True Irish to the marrow, you took old age
Dreaming and
fighting. And, tempering your rage
In the blood,
bone, and sinew of your art,
Defied both defeat
and triumph. So great was your heart.
https://cantshutupabout.wordpress.com/2014/04/07/poem-of-the-day-project-he-wishes-for-the-cloths-of-heaven-by-w-b-yeats/
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