Work, family, poetry...

Yet another day of boredom here at work… I shouldn’t complain – leaves me time for things like this! Seriously, its feast or famine here most of the time and, though I hesitate to say it, I think I might actually prefer the feast. At least the days go by quickly that way. When I can pretty much finish everything I need to do for the day by 11:00, it makes for a terribly long day. Too much time on my hands to consider how little I enjoy what I do for a living…course, its not that I hate it or anything; I just don’t particularly enjoy it either. Could be worse, I’ve no doubt so please, whatever fates may be listening – I’m not complaining!

Family night again tonight and I’m looking forward to seeing the kids (and everyone else). My brother and his family didn’t come last week and I really missed seeing them. Wouldn’t think a week would make that much difference but it does when you’re used to seeing everyone. This is me we’re talking about here –time was I’d quite happily go for months sometimes w/o seeing my family and not think it strange or difficult…then my brother gets me into this whole ‘family night’ thing and I don’t like going more than 7 days w/o seeing everyone. Not a bad thing…just proof, I suppose, that I am certainly a creature of habit…if nothing else ;-P.

When you are old and gray 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.

-- William Butler Yeats

Found this in one of the fan-fictions I read today…not sure really that the author of the fan-fic even began to do it justice w/her story but the poem touched me as much this time as it did the first time I read it. “But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face”. That line gets me every time w/o fail. There’s something so…I don’t know – poignant maybe about that line – almost painful really. Who doesn’t want to be loved that way? Does anyone believe they really will be? By another human person?...