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.
- Yeats
Funny how some days I feel like I live the first half of this poem. Other days, I know I live the last half. But always I know, as did the poet, that whatever I have, I give.
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