Upon How The Daffodil Became Ill

The Daffodil was feeling fine,

the day was cold,

but, the sun did shine.

It ventured out

a soul so bold

and into the air did shout:

“Look at me,

I’m fancy free!”

and smiled unto the world.

Then, it went in search of friends,

walked about, not quite to the ends of the Earth;

but down dale and up hill,

until…

atop a snow-covered mound –

a carpet of white

upon the ground –

it found a sense of liberty,

a peace of mind,

for one to be,

the highest peak the Daffodil,

of whom we speak,could find.

A sense of infinite well-being

was felt by the Daffodil,

until…

it decided to ski ‘down’ the hill.

Not a great skier,

no grace, no style,

the Daffodil was descending

at many a mile

per hour;

then things turned sour…

All control was lost,

and the final cost

was a bump on the head,

two broken legs,

and a stem that was twisted

and bitter.

The Daffodil felt shock

it was only 8 o’clock

and time was no friend to a flower.

From low unto high

to even lower by and by

in no more than

a quarter of an hour.