Yeats Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

Yeats



The violin that
Plays
Not always in
The limelight
Most often plays
Away.

It be the rhythm of
The verse
The Soul of chanting
Too

Noble poet
From small beginnings
You
Quick arose
And in your pantheon
There's heavens, magic,
Greatness, and
Nobility too.

That to me
Was an example so.

When verses do not flow
Your verses read I
Within my heart they sow
New verses replacing the parched
Throat.

Monday, May 21, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: music
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Daniel Brick 09 August 2018

Wonderful praise-song for the venerable W. B. Yeats! ! He is one of my favorite poets too. And in so far as I can call myself a poet, Yeats is my Master. Your are so right in identifying his restorative power, that rescues us from failure and loss of inspiration.

0 0 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success