Allergic to daffodils

Allergic to daffodils

(Note: The following poem came to me on a recent night in which daffodils felt much better as symbols of memory than as themselves. Thanks -- and apologies -- to William Wordsworth.)

I wandered, foggy as a cloud that floats on high o'er vale and hill,

and stumbled blindly through a crowd, in dire need of allergy pill.

Beside the lake and in the trees

were things that made me cough and sneeze.

The waves beside me danced; but they

could make no difference to me.

This poet cannot spend the day

in pollinated company.

I gazed, quite dazed -- but then I thought

what wealth the spring to me hath brought.

For oft, when on my couch I lie,

stuffed-headed and in pensive mood,

I give my poetry a try

amid my coughs and solitude.

Now I must go and take my pills;

I'm allergic to daffodils.


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  • Oh no! They are such beauties but you better stick to viewing their grandeur from behind closed windows!

  • In reply to Kathy Mathews:

    Thanks, Kathy. Grandeur is a great word for them -- and I do like the look of them, somehow.

  • Sorry about that! But it's a wonderful poem...

  • In reply to Weather Girl:

    Thank you. Laughing at the problem helps!

  • Pollinated company?
    I also rue.
    They make my life
    One big ACHOO!

  • In reply to Aquinas wired:

    Thanks for the poetic response -- or should that be "back ACHOO, my friend?"

  • The weather guys really freaked over this one last night. Various stations had the report that Dr. Joseph Leija said this was the highest tree pollen count of all time (Channel 7 reference but the WGN newscasters went all ape over "stay indoors, flush your nose with saline solution" and the like.

  • In reply to jack:

    Thanks, Jack. I saw the tree-pollen story, too. Actually, I think that might be at fault more than flowers, but
    I'm left to rhyme with words like these
    since Sergeant Kilmer used the trees!

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