Daffodils
By Charles A. Heath
And now here come the daffodils,
The trumpeters of spring,
All tooting joy, which thrills and thrills,
The while again they bring
Their happiest note attuned with cheer
To tell that spring is truly here.
I am always glad when daffodils
Lift up their golden horn,
To wake a day whose waking fills
With mellowness the morn,
And lures the southwinds thru the air
To bear away my winter's care.
I always thought the daffodils
Which rise from frigid earth
Were heroines with hearts and wills
To understand the worth
Of holding hope thru days severe,
And burst with joy when spring is here.
So blow your best, dear daffodils,
I will listen full and long,
To every note which ever thrills
With your returning song;
And when at night I rest my head,
I will dream sweet dreams thus comforted.
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Wednesday was, like Tuesday, a gorgeous warm spring open-window birds-singing flowers-blooming spring day. My front yard azaleas have completely recovered from the snow, my bird feeders have been scrubbed, and we're waiting to see if any wrens move into the bird houses. We had fassoulyeh b'chuderah in the slow cooker all day for Purim tonight, so it smelled like food everywhere and I was hungry all day.
We ate the stew for dinner and hamantaschen for dessert, then we watched The Flash, whose plot I can no longer even follow because I've stopped caring about the characters, and Kung Fu, which is still all about kick-ass women so at least that's all to the good (the characters on Last Tango in Halifax are kind of driving me nuts too). Here are some of the daffodils currently blooming all around my neighborhood:
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