The Daffodil

The Daffodil

Her mischievous smile greets me

She is a lady wearing a golden tiara

in the beads of dew

on her vibrant green gown

She asks me to a dance

I’m a nobody in this ballroom

She can ask Wordsworth to the dance, can’t she?

She whispers me now

Shall we dance?

7 thoughts on “The Daffodil

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