The yellow eases past the stalks and stems
reaching a crescendo
as it spreads into a trumpet shape
embodying all that signifies that spring has come
and spoiling us with it's beauty
enhancing us with its brightness
all enveloping Daffodil
you herald your awakening
and if you could sing of springtime
you would make our day
for nothing speaks more purely
of nature's finest exhibition
than a morning of pure yellow
against a sky of dismal grey
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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