(After ‘The Lake Isle of Innisfree’ by W.B.Yeats)
I will take time now to write some poetry
For poems come dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of language
Until the rhythm sings,
And words are all a-glimmer
And beat like linnet’s wings.
I will arise now to write some poetry,
For always night and day
I hear the verses lapping
With low sounds in my head
Until I hear the poem whisper:
‘Take me to your bed.’