Pensive Mood

My Mom always calls the bloom of a flower its "face".

Her Mom did this...while framing a pansy in her hand and admiring

that sweet little face.

Is it any wonder that this is now my habit as well?

For me, no face is sweeter than that of the daffodil.

Announcing Spring in the most cheery yellow way.

Take a moment to imagine what a field of these

dancing faces would look like...

the feelings that they would evoke.

Daffodils

by

William Wordsworth

I WANDER'D 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 stretch'd in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay;

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in a 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.

What moments in your life flash upon that inward eye as you lie quietly in bliss?

A monarch butterfly, using my large pregnant belly

as a landing strip...pausing to sun himself...

while watching me watching him.

A long winter walk with mom...right after a fresh new snow.

All was quiet and bright.

A stillness occurred that holds tight to our memories.

Imagine.

Palm branches held high.

Laid on the road to pave the way for

The King.

I hope that today,

your heart with pleasure fills,

and dances with the daffodils.