Poetry Friday: No Rainbows Here

Barb pointed out last week that one can read only so many poems about rainbows, clouds and crashing waves. I couldn't agree more, which is why I'm offering a flower poem for mid-April.

To an Early Daffodil
by Amy Lowell

Thou yellow trumpeter of laggard Spring!
Thou herald of rich Summer's myriad flowers!
The climbing sun with new recovered powers
Does warm thee into being, through the ring
Of rich, brown earth he woos thee, makes thee fling
Thy green shoots up, inheriting the dowers
Of bending sky and sudden, sweeping showers,
Till ripe and blossoming thou art a thing
To make all nature glad, thou art so gay;
To fill the lonely with a joy untold;
Nodding at every gust of wind to-day,
To-morrow jewelled with raindrops. Always bold
To stand erect, full in the dazzling play
Of April's sun, for thou hast caught his gold.

This week's Poetry Roundup can be found at Becky's Book Reviews.