Daffodil on a Hill


Yellow daffodil lonesome on its hill
Yet still each morning has the strength of will
To tilt a smile towards another solo friend
For camaraderie is but a moment’s hardship to lend
To a sun that dances with its arms around the air
Always joyful and heedless of the stares
Of those caustic lonesomes in twos or threes
Clutched to each other as if so desperately
Fighting to lose their own beautiful singularities.



How charming is
The posy in your pocket
The curl of auburn
Nestled in your locket
Your smiles at
Yellow daises and daffodils
By the meadow’s little rill
Which will run a hundred days
As long as your laughter plays
And promises
You’ll stay.