Thursday, July 11, 2013

Salutations from the Imaginalchemist's traveling Wagon of Weirdness and Oddities...

So, it's been a while since I donned the Imaginalchemist facade. It's been a busy time being the Other Me (you know, the frizzy-haired pen scrawler who's been at literary conferences, book signings, and hammering out a book sequel) and so my wagon's been on the road quite a bit.

Not that I've had time to invent any new bits of whimsy...but I miss the Imaginalchemy workshop. So, even though this is not my work, I came across this poem when I visited William Wordsworth's grave in England last year, and I hope its imagery brightens your day the way it does for me.

Daffodils

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.