Poem: Yeats Warned Me


As I grow older
I become
lost in youthfulness.
The sky draws darker
starry innocence
while water
at its deepening
appears less troubled,
and leaves fall
fast into winter
full of sleep
yet not so gray as
the sun comes closer.
Most poets
love the shadows deep,
pilgrim souls
the wandering days
changing everything
and nothing.
But Yeats warned me
of regret,
I’ve been waiting
and expecting it
as prickly
as the thistle down
and out of
time for murmuring
how love did escape
to will more
of life in its wake.

Writing note: Here is the poem that prompted mine… 

               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.

William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)  

©Artwork and writing, unless otherwise indicated, are the property of Diane M Denton. Please request permission to reproduce or post elsewhere with a link back to bardessdmdenton. Thank you.

13 thoughts on “Poem: Yeats Warned Me

    • Thank you so much for your kind comment! ! I’m so glad you enjoyed it.

      I think with drawing/painting (not so different from writing) you have to find your expression…and let it do what it will. Hope you will and overcome any frustration.


  1. Yeats’s poem (one of my favourites of his) gives beautiful, gentle inspiration here and it’s led to more beauty in your poem. I love the falling sense in your lines ‘and leaves fall / fast into winter / full of sleep’. The thistle image is lovely too.


    • Hi Steve! Thanks so much for reading my post and for the link to the inspiration behind the inspiration! I have read this Ronsard sonnet before but didn’t know about its connection to Yeats. Rather like a rumor or gossip that takes on a life of its own.

      I am also very interested in your blog regarding Spanish-English word connections. Thanks for sharing.


  2. By making a comment I feel as if I might disturb the fragility of the moment you have created here. (So, I’ll whisper.) There is so much I love about it, from the first lines, which convey so much that is so true, through to descriptions such as ‘as prickly as the thistle down’. Beautiful to read and full of meaning. Wonderful illustration as ever. I tweeted this post.


    • Your reflections and insights are always welcome…I so look forward to them…(they’re a kind of insistent whisper…like a beautiful melody that must be listen to no matter what else tries to claim my attention )

      If anything your lovely, sensitive and intelligent writing urges me to write more and better.

      And thanks for tweeting my post. I’m not much of a tweeter yet…but until fairly recently I wasn’t a blogger…


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