Daffodils, two Sunny, happy faces reaching for light Their open trumpets breathe out shy scent awaken me to future Spring Teases in the stubborn cold— not freeze, but near And now the rain will come please, not driving hard dreading beat-down blossoms, these harbingers that face the frost time innocent, brave, and true They ward off sad nudging me toward shine
Shoot up, show. Shy? Shine,
winter woes, cold chills be damned.
Daffodils teach how.
That they do!
Oh, I, too, hope the rain doesn't beat down all the sweet blossoms. And oh, what terrific lines in that final stanza, especially the final two lines:
"...these harbingers
that face the frost time
innocent, brave, and true
They ward off sad
nudging me toward shine"