Tag Archives: #Daffodils

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud – WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

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.

There are many more words to this short poem,

but, I am lazy, and do not know ‘em.

Releasing Daffodils back into the wild.

Releasing Daffodils back into the wild.

I bought them

at a local shop;

tied they were

by an elastic band,

I held them closely

and took their hand

leading them away from that accursed place

awaiting to see

the smiles return to their face;

I took them surreptitiously

to a local verge

and unloosed the recent captives,

back into the wild –

I smiled,

like a child,

and watched them

as they gaily walked away,

in a metaphorically speaking

sort of way.



I wandered lonely

as a sheep,

thinking many sheepish thoughts,

though none were deep;

I wondered for a while upon

where the other sheep had gone.

Whilst munching grass

and chewing cud,

across the fields

like a cloud

I’d scud.

A cloud wondered lonely as me

‘A cloud wondered lonely as me’

A cloud wandered lonely as me,

that walked on low along tracks and lanes

when all at once it spied a cow,

and thought:

‘Wow! They are so much bigger,

the closer you are to them!’

Herring Daffogulls?

Herring Daffogulls?

I wandered lonely as a gull;

that trawls the boats from Looe to Hull,

who follows after little ships,

in search for fish

and maybe chips;

and, if I’m lucky,

or very plucky,

I might just crest

and wave goodbye

my hidden dips.

☁️ x – from a Cloud’s perspective.

☁️ x – From a cloud’s perspective

“I was just floating along

minding my own business

when this geezer spots me;

he starts purple prosing me,

in like a poetic way;

he gets all rhymey and rhythmic-like…

Well, I wanted to breeze on out of there;

but, I was just floating around

over the ‘ills and the vales;

not much I could do really,

just had to wait for the old Zephyr to pick up

and blow me out of there.

He waffles on for a while, and then…

well I’ll be blowed

he decides to call his poem ‘Daffodils!’

I mean, I started it off,

what’s wrong with ‘Cloud’ as a title?

Wish I hadn’t bothered catching his eye –


Stretching the facts, somewhat.


Go with me on this:

All daffodils are yellow,

and all daffodils are flowers;

therefore, all flowers are daffodils,

and all flowers are yellow.

Wallflowers, on the other hand

are made of brick

and Cornflowers, apart from telling bad jokes,

are related to the Corn-plaster, the Cornflake and the Cornetto.

All wild flowers sometimes become almost livid,

Some are quite restrained,

the livid ones are more vivid,

the restrained ones are usually released after questioning.

There is a suggestioning

that some or all of the above

is wrong, or, at the least untrue.

Perception is everything,

I leave the knowledge of choice

to you.