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How a Poem Was Made

Composing a poem is a mysterious thing.
A lesser poet or the greatest one do the same thing,
Always having a strange way in making and creating
Experiencing directly or just referring and quoting.

The greatest man of cloud did the similar thing,
After in Eusemere eating and by the lake walking
The notes of a threatening and misty morning
Becoming the way for recalling and remembering.

Then two years later a beautiful poem was appearing
Talking about the flowers fluttering and dancing
Stretching never ending with the heads tossing
Under the breeze sprouting the gay sparkling.

It is said that among the plowing and the breathing
The lake was waving and the wind was howling,
Beyond the Gowbarrow Park* the flowers are marching
Showing how this colony flirting and seducing.

Among the mossy stones they are growing, resting,
Sleeping, dancing, smiling, tossing, and marching.
The fiery storms winding and the giant waves roaring
But never disturbing nor damage causing.

The raining is coming, the Luff under the reaching,
It is time for resting, putting the whole thing
On the note making for the future referencing
Then the amazing lines sprouting and emerging!

Yes, the swaying and amazing lines are waiting
Dancing and tossing through the path of traveling
Whispering the hope of light, full of promising
Bridging and answering the human eternal longing!


 

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*Gowbarrow Park—Where Wordsworth viewed the daffodils in his famous poem.

Read I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud.