Aedh Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven

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The old feeder spent the early morning hours reading poems instead of working.

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. WB Yeats

WB Yeats had a fine understanding of unrequited love, gained through his long experience with Maude Gonne. Sometimes I think my dreams have been trampled as thin as tortillas.

For an asshole, I can sure get sentimental. I'm not even Irish.