We are celebrating Yeats' 150th birthday here in Ireland with a variety of events and publications. You can check out the myriad of content under the hashtag #Yeats2015. In the mean time, here is one one of my favourites of his short poems, lyrical as ever and softly tuned:
Where My Books Go - WB Yeats
All the words that I gather,
And all the words that I write,
Must spread out their wings untiring,
And never rest in their flight,
Till they come where your sad, sad heart is,
And sing to you in the night,
Beyond where the waters are moving,
Storm darkened or starry bright.
The best way to predict the future is to create it.
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imarksweb.net . GBY :*