A Lonely Daffodil
A little bit of nonsense.
This is another attempt at rhyming poetry, and was inspired by my countryside walk this morning. I hope you enjoy.
The beauty before us.
I was once a lonely daffodil, amidst a verge of green
My waxed golden head of hair, blowing gently by the stream
The dusty pale hue, of the primrose at my feet
Her buds so tight and uniformed, glanced at me discreet
Settled in the dry stone wall, she clung on with no regard
her pride in her home, is unyielding and hard.
She gently said “Good morning,” and slowly she tipped her face
As Spring yawned illusively, “welcome to my space”
I felt such terrible pain, that I never felt before
My roots they split underground, and now I am four
I look at my stem, and there to my surprise
I see another daffodil, dancing right before my eyes
Spring has arrived, and she sings her merry tune
“I will be glad to dance with you, in the sunshine, soon”
Craftsmanship that survives a life time.
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