I have not seen much of lands
Beyond my windowsill
But if I look out through the glass
Behold! The daffodil
They grow in spring, the world's rebirth
And countless numbers lay
Throughout meadows here and there
And will through most of may
And through my window I have seen
The busy thrills of man
Who often wonder who it is
That gazes out their pane
What a world of wily things
That thrive in times of woe
Who'll bring about a reckoning
Sooner than they'll know
YOU ARE READING
All the little lights
PoetryMy challenge to you is to read my poems and find your own meanings Votes and comments are very much appreciated:)
