I Wandered Lonely as a CloudI 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 winkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay;
Ten thousand saw I at a glance.
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.
~William Wordsworth
Alas, no fields of golden daffodils are to be found in Jordan, but "my heart with pleasure fills" when the graceful poppies toss their red-bonnet-ed "heads in sprightly dance."