The daffodils are weary now.
They’ve nodded their heads off for Spring.
Their bonnets will be packed away,
‘Cause yellow’s not the latest thing.
Now under bush and under leaf,
Some nascent shoots start to appear.
Their folded blooms show hints of blue,
Surmounting each short sea green spear.
A little sun, a little rain,
A little time must pass as well.
Their blossoms swell and then unfold,
Displaying fresh, a bright bluebell.
