785 Dan Vrooman's poem: Song of Wandering Aengus
Day 785 Tuesday, May 10, 2022
Song of Wandering Aengus
I went out to the hazel wood, Because a fire was in my head, And cut and peeled a hazel wand, And hooked a berry to a thread; And when white moths were on the wing, And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream And caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor I went to blow the fire a-flame, But something rustled on the floor, And someone called me by my name: It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair Who called me by my name and ran And faded through the brightening air.
Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun. -- Yeats
Announcement #1: Video of our Picnic on YouTube
Announcement #2: Video of our May 8 Celebration:
Here's the link to our May 8, 2022 Celebration (amazing) on our Google Drive.
Please open this video if you like. Please email David Carlson if it fails: My email is firstname.lastname@example.org