To Wordsworth

Joby John, Lecturer, Mar Augusthinose College, Ramapuram

Fancy Oh poet!
A flower and a girl...
A moment to
Remember those letters you were once taught..
Vivid and kind as you are,
Form out of them a wandering  cloud, Or
Perhaps a storm
Throw in solitude,
For then it's 'twice Blessed'.
Expand the lines over a decade
To darken the story of a youth
Who, bored with his leisures,
Demanded a new cast
An aborginal one to console.
To adore the human nature
To withstand all and yet stand.

From then on your pen must
Overflow, smudging every curve
Reach the fathom of glory
And when you are done
Take heed to end with pity.
To be lost like your 'memories
Recollected in tranquility'

But then my poet did you see?
Or hear? To write those very sad notes
That once sucked the air of your soul
While you gently passed unseen,
Yet awaited by that reaper
'Yon solitary Highland Lass'.
That meandering Ruth
Chaffed and blood drained feet to
Nurture your seed.

Pause for a moment,
Let us think.
Should a poet but only write,
His travails and endless lies?
Of daffodils and beautiful eyes,
Or perhaps had you dared,
To step aside and stray forth,
To bend the sickle and reap,
And thrust a joyful demise
Only to write...
''The music in my heart i bore
Long before it was heard no more''.