Historic heaps- part 2
I'sola Inferiore- to Isabella,
From fishing village to Isola Bella!
Little change won't pester much,
It'll be good for me-
After all it's all for Isabella-
Dear Isabella.
But the plague-
Oh the plague smacked me right in the face,
Devastation.
But eventually it burnt at the stake-
Killed the culprits.
Onto Carlos sons-
They'll finish the job, right?
They'll stay- I know it.
They stayed- for a while-
Isola Bella was like Gatsby for the locals!
Yet Isola Bella wasn't quite complete.
The gardens- the flowers, rolling lawns,
Incomplete.
From Carlos sons onto Carlos nephews-
Why cant someone stay for good?
Am I not lustrous enough?
Onto better things?
Milked my benefits- got bored and then left,
Like an intelligent fish nibbling at a hooked worm,
Cleaned it straight off and when the fisherman strikes,
The line runs- leaps into the air-
Hook shining in the sun.
They all leave- eventually.
Well the gardens were inaugurated-
The guests were plenty!
But they were only guests-
When the guests leave,
I am alone.
The back and fourth taught me to love the company of my own,
The fish that left me starving taught me to fill myself up with the fruit of not the lonely but the bliss of the alone-
I learnt the difference.
I now stand not for Isabella but for Isola Bella.
