HAD I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet,
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
Always as beautiful as the first time I read it, eons ago.
Thanks to Eng Kian for the poem. I lost him to the hustle and bustle of life, and I have no idea what has happened to him. Of course Mentalf gave me a whole book of Yeats which still sits on my bookshelf, dog eared and trying its darnest not to turn yellow.
Most of my best loved poems have been introduced to me by people who appeared very briefly in my life, as if their sole purpose were to say "here, have this!"
So wherever you guys are, thank you for the Nerudas, Keats, Gibrans, Yeats and Blakes. And my heart brims with love and gratitude for your thoughtfulness and beauty of the poetry you left me.