Ode to the National Flower of Wales

Inside the Bloom of a Daffodil

Kaleidoscope of yellow
inside trumpeted bloom of a daffodil.

Green frames the central foundation
like mountain hillsides of Wales

where Old Lady Jones
stands at rivers edge, arms stretch upward;

as a priestess touches
treetops touching sky.

She sings in Welsh, her native tongue.
Notes resound: just as crickets

enchant lovers underneath
the infinite blanket of black

Ancient ferns sway in concert.
Sacred song shapes woodland together;

river rocks glow as sunbeams
share water sharing stone

as easily as time flows through
the blood of a daffodil.

Grandma's Daffodils 🙂

4 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Pat
    Mar 26, 2011 @ 21:46:05

    Beautiful! The photography AND the poem.
    Just how cold is it there – what with daffodils blooming and all?


  2. Lindsay
    Mar 26, 2011 @ 21:54:08

    Daffodil’s to me-the real first sign of spring.


    • Vikki Bakus
      Mar 26, 2011 @ 22:55:13

      Hi, Lindsay. Yes, for me too. In Wales, the first person to see a daffodil has luck the whole year! I wonder if photographed daffodils count? Probably not.


  3. Vikki Bakus
    Mar 26, 2011 @ 22:50:51

    Thanks, Pat! Those photos were from our 2009. One of the first folders I made after you bought me the camera 🙂
    Right now, it’s 34 degrees. Yuck. I didn’t want to leave the comfort of my house to shoot pics of the daffodils sprouting up today.


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