Studiously, I smell the daffodils: I know they will not last, and yet I ply Their stems, and press their blossom frills— Their cups and saucers—to my nose, and try To feel they’ll last forever—or, at least Burst hints of things eternal till they die.

I am very fond of daffodils. When they bloomed this year, as they always do before everyone else, like you I sat among them and “studied” them. I also added them to my list of things to versify. You have done a beautiful job of it.
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Thank you, kfoflygen! I’m so glad to find a fellow spirit in you, and thanks so much for taking the time to comment and to read and “like” several of my poems. 🙂 And if you do write that poem about daffodils, feel free to message a copy to me–that would be fun!
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