In the gentle glow of morning’s embrace,Whispers of Yeats dance through the air,A tapestry of hope woven with grace,Guiding dreams with tender care.
Amidst the shadows of the night,A beacon of light begins to rise,Promises of a world made bright,In the vast expanse of endless skies.
Each word a seed in fertile ground,Where aspirations find their way,In silence, a hopeful sound,To bloom beneath the break of day.
In Yeats’ verses, a song of hope,Echoes through the heart’s deep core,In every line, a way to cope,With life’s mysteries evermore.