he grew up tall
in this small land
and worked the beaches
field and strand

until reward won mind
and hand
and left his youth
for golden band

so two were paired
to understand
that marraige took
its own demand

"what then?"
cried Yeats's Ghost..
What then?"

his bandaged hands
found fame and wage
as status grew
about his rage

and wilder hearts
could never assuage
the fight inside
that always stayed

when life was hard
and fears did age
his story writ
upon a page
of blood red ink
and subtle beige

"What then?"
cried Yeats's Ghost?..
"What then?"

the band of gold
he wore as ring
did lose its glow
refused to sing

and wore away
the very thing
that made his world
a bell and ring

and each new love
brought everything
except the glow
of anything..

that's her

" What then?"
cried Yeats's Ghost..
"What then?"