Fading

Waiting is Hell

Day 1:

Daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloud

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.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in a sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they

Outdid the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not be but gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed-and gazed-but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

-William Wordsworth

I snorted as I read the end of the poem. 'Bliss of solitude'. I was with him up until that point. I glanced over at the field of daisies I had landed next to for the day. It was peaceful as I sat in the tree, watching them as they swayed in the breeze (how poetic).

"Jas would love this..." I muttered to myself, before hanging my head. Every thought was almost depressing before I had to remind myself that I would be seeing her again. Every day was almost a struggle but I managed by reading the poems, knowing she had ran her fingers over the same pages and read the same words. I sighed as I took one last look at the field before grabbing my staff, tucking the book in the new sweater (which I had found a string to tie it to myself) before taking off.

Day 2:

The Presence of Love

And in life's noisiest hour,

There whispers still the ceaseless love of thee,

The heart's self-solace soliloquy.

You mould my hopes, you fashion me from within;

And to the leading love-throb in the heart

Thro' all my being, thro' my pulses beat;

You lie in all my many thoughts, like light,

Like the fair light of dawn, or summer Eve

On rippling stream, or cloud reflecting lake.

And looking to the heaven, that bends above you,