Walking along the path,
I gaze upon the scene,
two lovely Daffodils,
swaying in the breeze.
"Two Daffodils" stand in a rutilant post,
no genial others are there to boast,
the blossoms in oppositional salute,
thankfully their flowerets didn't refute!
Pretty yellow, glowing beacon from a far,
like the sun, our distant warming star,
Ye pistol and petals is very chromatic,
an ephemeral flower that's never dramatic.
While your bloom is veritably short,
and late spring is your final tort,
with the generation of thee all covering lawn,
oh how I miss you when you've gone!
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