New moon on Monday

Here is a pretty picture. I think it is an impression of Keats and Yates, but I have yet to understand why.

Here is a pretty poem by Yeats

The 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 aflame,

But something rustled on the floor,

And some one 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.

...and here are some pretty jingles. The first because it was a new moon this last monday and I am told it was in the sign of the Cancer. My sister is a Cancer. She is ferociously protective of me. I think she can be a she-wolf. She could probably nurture a whole Roman empire. 

This second music selection comes from the seventies. The band is the silver Apples. I think they are named for the Ray Bradbury story which is probably named for the Yeats poem above.