Easter Finery P.S.


I'd be hard pressed to pick my favorite Spring flower. But right up there near the top is the sunny yellow daffodil. This is the time of year to be living in the Northwest if you are a bulb lover. Tulip and Daffodil fields line the highways and every house has their own supply.

I haven't seen the first daffodil this year until today. My sister sent me this picture. The flowers are from the flowering of the cross at her church. Once the service was over the church ladies were going to toss these beauties because they don't smell so good. What? Toss them as in throw them away? My sweet sister, Linda Lu, is a natural born savior of cats, dogs, nieces and nephews, sisters and now daffodils.

I have added seeing a whole Easter cross covered in 50 varieties of daffodils to my bucket list. Be still my heart, I swoon at the very thought of such beauty. On that note I leave you with a daffodil poem. It is like an exclamation point at the end of a gorgeous Easter Day!

Daffodils

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 leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but 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.

by
William Wordsworth

Wishing for you heart full of pleasure,
Merry ME

Comments

Unknown said…
Your daffodil poem brought back such childhood memories. (I think it was in my childhood) Anyway, I love it.
My best ever flower memory was seeing the tulips in Michigan when I was in the third grade. This is a beautiful time of year.

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