On the hillside behind our house there are daffodils planted in masses in a length of over two hundred feet. I can’t see them from the house, so I have take a short stroll if I want to enjoy them, and so far I haven’t taken the time to do much daffodil gazing. But this morning I spent a few minutes there just as the sun was coming up. The brightest yellow ones have finished blooming and mostly the small white Jonquils are left “dancing in the breeze”.
When I see all these daffodils in multitudes a poem comes to mind. I have a thing for poetry. I think it came from my mamma reading the Childcraft Book of Poetry to us when I was young. I’ve always loved classic poetry - pictures made with words set to a cadence with rhyme. It seems miraculous to me that a person can create things like this.
I find old books of poetry to be irresistible. When I was in my teens I started collecting old volumes and spent hours reading. If I went on a trip there was usually a poem book tucked in my suitcase somewhere, and when I would go for weeks at a time to Bible schools, I had a whole stack to take along.
Now there’s not so much time for poetry reading. But there are bits and pieces tucked away in my mind that come back at random times. Like when I see the daffodils…
I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
by William Wordsworth 1804
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.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
Let all that I am praise the LORD; may I never forget the good things he does for me.
Psalm 103:2 NLTI Wandered Lonely as a Cloud