If you really want to hear about it,
the first thing you’ll probably want to know
is what I was doing standing there like an idiot
staring at a bunch of god damned daffodils and
why I was bothering to write a poem about them and
all that William Wordsworth kind of crap.
But I don’t feel like going into it right now
if you really want to the know the truth.
All I can say is the flowers were golden,
And maybe some wind was blowing on them,
and I called them a “host” but I don’t know how
the hell I came up with that image.
Dear Prof. Poetry Hound, Subtle gifts of beauty do touch base with our communion with our God especially when that veil is thick... Amazingly and with great thanks, those gifts of light appear when our hearts' most unintelligible shadows predominate over our entire being: -) Blessings to you and for your dear family ~ Debora
Dear Prof....Yes indeed...what the heck were you doing writing about a bunch of 'bleep' daffodils in the first place? ? ? Cute poem Hugs, Dee
Poetic 'dexterity' and wit … is felt beat pleasantly to read …
Thank goodness you didn't see Tintern Abbey. Bunch of rocks, etc.! ! ! Loved this poem.
Maybe you like flowers. (ha ha) just teasing. Nice poem. Take care.
I dont know why I like this but it made me Guffaw! ! ! ! ! ! .Anyone who has been to Ambleside Youth Hostel and consumed a few strong ales has woken up in a field very early in the morning to that experience. All the best. Sid John.
I like the casual manner of this piece Prof. You set up a good framework for it and the form seems to contradict the content. Somehow this doesn't feel as if it has 'AUTBIOGRAPHY' written on it. The title is a great pun.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A host of images here, Prof, and a message to us of how you're feeling. You make a otherwise serene scene all your own - we see a glimpse into you and lose interest in the flowers. Sending cyberhugs and lover, t xxxx