I’ve always loved the imagery of this poem by Wordsworth, the imagery speaks to my heart. For years I thought it was titled Daffodils, but it’s not; its title, I Wandered as Lonely as a Cloud, is taken from the first line, a common practice for poetry and songs from that time period. I love the image of daffodils dancing as clouds roll by. I love to watch the clouds. When I was a girl and had the leisure time, I used to spend hours outside reading, lost in faraway places having amazing adventures via the pages of my book, but every now and then I would pause, coming back to awareness of a summer day, the smell of warm grass, the wind fluttering through the leaves of the trees, and looking up at fluffy, white clouds in a blue, blue sky. I would let my imagination take flight, fancying this and that pictured in the clouds, whether a fairy, a fox, a dragon, or a castle, I loved finding pictures in the clouds. Oh, what I would give to have time to enjoy a spring or summer day, outside on a magical afternoon watching the clouds in the sky and losing myself in the pages of a book!  I wrote a poem about those days, so perhaps I’ll share it, (it’s called Sun Drenched) as well as the one by Wordsworth — though mine is much simpler, indeed. 

            Sun Drenched

On a sun-drenched afternoon

I hear the distant hum of bees.

Fresh-scented clover cushions my back,

As I gaze at wind-swept trees.

Branches drifting to and fro,

From lofty heights they wave;

As I watch and dream below,

On a sun-drenched day.

I  Wandered as Lonely as a Cloud*


William Wordsworth

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 sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced;  but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:-

A Poet could not but be 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.

*Text from Wikipedia


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