The poem “When you are Old” by W.B. Yeats, and the word “pilgrim soul” inspired this little poem that I wrote. And I thought it was apt for the word of the day. C is for Choice. Here is my poem:
Is Choice not a battle of wills?
On a sojourn such as this,
A condemnation or a compromised kiss,
Both, the pilgrim soul resists.
P.S. Sometimes when I read a poem, it speaks to me and forces me to spout words of my own. The words, worthy of penning or not, give me a sense of peace and pride in my little creations.
Hope this speaks to you too!
Here is the poem by Yeats.
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 lookYour 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 fledAnd paced upon the mountains overheadAnd hid his face amid a crowd of stars.