When You Are Old


  When You Are Old by William Butler Yeats 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 … Continue reading When You Are Old

Simple Things


Simple Things by Maria Fokas Precious things to hold onto; Moments we have loved. With time still left, To love some more. A day, a decade, hopefully, two, And wishing for more. Soaring through life for the simple things, Thankful each day for your generosity. Oh, my love; now I see, In the river of dreams, A taste of cloves, and lemon drops, Is all I’ll ever need. ©All Rights Reserved – Photography by mariafokas.com Continue reading Simple Things

When You Are Old


Photograph Credits: Leszek Paradowski When You Are Old by William Butler Yeats 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 … Continue reading When You Are Old

The Heart of The Moon


The Heart of the Moon  To seize the darkness of your mournful heart In an enchanted weakness of wicked play You lose yourself to a fruitless path You fear to taste the scent of love In the weeping of time In the sorrow of love Many will envy all that we created – unavailing thoughts of a distorted past With a thread to tie a knot But you were never meant To keep me in an invisible grip I wanted to paint your beautiful soul And I did Though I slipped inside your hunger And fell in too deep The … Continue reading The Heart of The Moon

The Stolen Child


The Stolen Child Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand. Away with us he’s going, The solemn-eyed: He’ll hear no more the lowing Of the calves on the warm hillside Or the kettle on the hob Sing peace into his breast, Or see the brown mice bob Round and round the oatmeal chest. For he comes, the human child, To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world’s more full of weeping than … Continue reading The Stolen Child

Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage


[There is a pleasure in the pathless woods] George Gordon Byron There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, To mingle with the Universe, and feel What I can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal. Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean–roll! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain; … Continue reading Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage