That lake isle *

That lake isle oft I see
In my mind's sweet memory,
Where (like that poet who once claimed
To have gone there and there made
A hut , a settlement, to be in humming glade,)
I would have gone and made
A cabin made of wood and would wake
Seeing the sun rising over water so calm,
There surely a longish poem I would've become,
Watching swans and cranes flying there in
Catching fish and upon branches of trees sitting,
There (like that poet who lived almost in words all through),
I would take a life long view
Of the lake and the isle not so distant,
There would've fallen in love sure, with the instant
Whence the night sky would come painting picture vast,
There would have lived till the evening in my lips last,

That lake isle would have been such a place
To find Love more in passionate alphabets,
Purple Hues when would with violet match
There would have lived to see how beauty such
Made impressions long upon mind,
There surely by the water of the lake, with tapers made a line,
Like little glowing dots right there at the bay,
There would have lived a life of entire day,
Till be consumed by the feel awesome of the spot ,
Till would've seen Your smile on the sky as a glittering dot.

(*Note: the poet referred to in this poem/scribbling is W.B.Yeats, whose "The Lake Isle of Innisfree" inspired me to write the poem.

Though the poem begins with reference to the poem mentioned , it shifts to a different and subjective plane gradually, which is quite discernable.)


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