WORDSWORTH GOES TO YORK
I wandered, lonely as a cloud,
Along the empty streets of York.
But daffodils were in short supply -
No glimpse of flower, or leaf, or stalk.
When next time on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
I'll find another source of cheer -
I think I'll lie and dream of food.
For flowers have given me many thrills,
But no-one dines on daffodils.
(With thanks to Tess at Magpie Tales for the photo. Her own.)
