Daffodils - Poem by James McLain
She doesn't mind the great length
or the girth of it.
Bushes without leaves
are not green as he kisses it.
are not deep without tree's
that are seen.
While the path that she walks
he chose in her dream.
Stopping she dropped what it was
that he picked.
A daffodil that bleeds white sap
if too hard it is picked.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye