I WANDERED lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
I love spring. Suddenly there are incredibly bright splotches of yellow all over the place, filling me with joy and hope.
However, I can't help thinking that Wordsworth was really lucky that his bright splotches of color were flowers rather than shrubs, or instead of A host of golden daffodils he'd have had to make do with Forsooth, forsythia!
2 comments:
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The leaves are bursting out here--and I'm wearing shorts today! It's going to be 75! There's nothing better than daffodils and forsythia.
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