The Daffodils

Aren’t  they just beautiful?   Credit to Fiona Osborne Smith for the pic of the beautiful daffodils.

When I saw the daffodils I was reminded of a true story recalled by a  Facilitator for Reading Rooms. She was reading the poem ‘Daffodils’ by William Wordsworth when an elderly man who suffered from dementia and who never spoke in the group, stood up and to the amazement of the staff gave voice to William Wordsworth poem.

She shared, as a volunteer her whole purpose for being there was affirmed that day. The poem had struck a cord with the man’s schooldays. And for that brief time the words and the image of the daffodils took him back to when he was a boy.

I hope the daffodils bring good memories for you too.

Enjoy

 

Daffodils by William Wordsworth

I wander’d lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o’er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host of golden daffodils,

Beside the lake, beneath the trees

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretch’d in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: –

A poet could not but be gay

In such a jocund company! I gazed – and gazed –

but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought.

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills

And dances with the daffodils.