Poet's Delight

Sweet narcissus recurvus
The poet's daffodil;
She's been around five hundred years
And be she always will.

Not Wordsworth's common yellow,
Petals of pristine white
And fragrance unforgettable,
A poeticus delight.

Graceful petals curling back
Revealing scented cup.
Bright butterflies warmed by the sun
Will stop awhile to sup.

With lavish hand I've planted her
To fill my yard en masse
With such ethereal beauty that
The bolder blooms are crass.

I cannot wait for bonny May
When first her charms appear;
Reminding me that sure as spring
She will return each year.

Joyce May 01/04