Darby and Joan

When You Are Old

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
W. B. Yeats

Clearing out the family home I'm very much surrounded by memories and mementoes my parents 67 year marriage. I've always loved this poem and feel it is so appropriate. For mum, love fled when she lost dad 6 years ago. I passed this little garden ornament when out asking the dog tonight and it just had to be my blip.

My apologies for not keeping up with my comments on journals. This house clearing process is proving to be exhausting, but I'll catch up with my journal reading next week. Thank you for your lovely supportive comments. they are making a difficult time a little bit easier.