Robert M Derry
Basic
Sometimes I read the works of great writers and I'm awed by their pure skill. I stumbled across this poem of Yeats' (I really should read more poetry!) and it really struck me:
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.
As a reader, I love the poem and as a writer, I'm inspired to write, but at the same time, intimated by the thought that I'll never write anything as good as this.
How do you feel when you read something that fills you with awe? Inspired or intimidated?
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.
As a reader, I love the poem and as a writer, I'm inspired to write, but at the same time, intimated by the thought that I'll never write anything as good as this.
How do you feel when you read something that fills you with awe? Inspired or intimidated?