A Host of Golden 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.




What a difference two days of sunny weather makes. Not grown for cut flowers for the florist but for bulbs for the Garden Centre's