I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud (William Wordsworth)

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

By William Wordsworth

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.

_____________________________________________________

So there I was, sitting in front of my house, looking at people walking home from work.
The sun goes down. I looked at the joint in my left hand, there’s not much left. I took a hit and looked at sun. Yellow, orange, purple, red. I wondered how such a simple thing, that we see everyday, could suddenly become so beautiful.

I took another hit. Now all at once I saw a crowd. I have never noticed them before, because of their  height. The breeze that came along, made them dance a little.  A little group of daisies, colored  yellow and white, now looked so human, in the beginning of the night.

Then something else caught my eye, a little bird flying in the sky. All alone in the big sea of colors. His  Red breast struck me the most, it made him look so grand. So there I sat just staring at the robin for  a couple of minutes, wondering how such a small bird, could look so grand.

After staring at the bird for so long, I took the last hit and threw all that was left away. I now looked at the other side of the road. There they were, beautiful red ones, the ones my beloved used to love.

I looked at them. Their heads hung down. The condensation created little tears on their red faces. It  made them look like as if they were crying.  Then I saw the last person, fast walking home. All those people, I thought by myself, they are too  busy.  Never thinking about the real world, only the one we created ourselves.

by Anonymous

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