Sing Daffodils
Sing, daffodils! And summon us the sun
With trumpet mouths of gold set in a star.
For I can hear the melodies you’ve spun
From sunbeams, plucked like strings on a guitar
And woven in a tapestry for spring
That’s music-made, so each note is a tone
Of amber, green and yellow. Each hue sings,
Each bloom an instrument that nature’s grown
From flavoured flutes that pipe their saffron musk
And throng the grass with serenading hearts,
Feasting on the light until its dusk
With fairy voices chorusing “Spring Starts!”
They celebrate the sun’s return each year,
With gilded tunes, only the wise can hear.