Thursday, September 29, 2005

Daffodil

Daffodil

Oh you droop your head
Your lovely belle
The spring sun is upon you
Wont you turn you head to meet her?
You are her color, and closer
So alike sisters
Wont you come and meet me
In bed, where sun is on the grass

Spring, Sprang, Sprung
Your bloom is finally won
My admiration for your slender
Leaves,
Parallel veins,
Your yellow, noble corona
Your corrugated collar
Is nothing short of under-pondered
And not hard won
Not for you, my first, flower, flirting

I

Can not pick you, and take you
Away from the soil, the sun.

I

Will only look, my Daffodil
My springing, sun-shine, planted

One.
at

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I read this this morning and thought you might like it.




"I am a person motivated and influenced by so many diverse forces I sometimes question the sanity of my existence.

I am a living paradox- deeply religious, yet not as convinced of my exact beliefs as i ought to be; wanting responsibility yet shirking it; loving the truth but often times giving way to falsity.

I detest selfishness, but see it in the mirror every day.

I view those, some of whom are very dear to me, who have never learned to live, with pity. I desire and struggle to be different from them, but often I am almost an exact likeness.

What a boring little word-I! I, me, my, mine... the only things that enable worthwhile uses of these words are the universal good qualities which we are not too often able to place with them: faith, trust, love, responsibility, regret, knowledge. But the acronyms to these symbols of what enable life to be worth the trouble cannot be escaped.

I, in my attempts to be honest, will not be the hypocrite I hate, and will own up to this ominous presence of this boy, endeavoring in such earnest to be a man.

Most of the time I was happy, but I could never be sure I was as good as I wanted to be."


-Bill Clinton, "My Life"

10/04/2005 9:00 AM

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