A soft bulb lies, buried beneath he earth, in the warm darkness;
Indifferent and plain, she rests herself upon the moist and heaving earth
In quiet contemplation; until at last,
As the last frost melts its icy cool into the ground, she lifts her shaded slender head,
Shrugs the soil from her budding shoulders and rises in slender grace
Towards the light;
Strong foundations steady her course towards the sun,
And in bright array she presents her pleasing stature to the world,
Yellow bonnet and pale green leaf, exhibiting
Grace and class upon a pale day of spring;
Quiet daffodil.
A Teacup Full of Stories 