Song of the Old Mother

Posted by Maverick ~ on November 16, 2015
Posted in: Nature, Photography, Poetry. Tagged: , , , , , .

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Song of the Old Mother
William Butler Yeats

I rise in the dawn, and I kneel and blow
Till the seed of the fire flicker and glow;
And then I must scrub and bake and sweep
Till stars are beginning to blink and peep;
And the young lie long and dream in their bed
Of the matching of ribbons for bosom and head,
And their days go over in idleness,
And they sigh if the wind but lift a tress:
While I must work because I am old,
And the seed of the fire gets feeble and cold.

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10 comments on “Song of the Old Mother”

  4. The photo does capture a beautiful combination of colors. I’m going to imagine the old mother relaxing on a blanket in the afternoon sun, gazing up at the tree tops. Or traveling south for a vacation.

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