The Golden Apples of the Sun

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 hand
And walk through long green dappled grass
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon
The golden apples of the sun.

W.B. Yeats


3 thoughts on “The Golden Apples of the Sun

    1. You had me worried for a second that I’d left Mr Yeats’ name off the poem …. But it’s there fortunately. It fitted the view last night perfectly – there was bushfire smoke in the air and so the sun was just hovering above the horizon like an orb.


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