Richard, one of our Age of Experience members, writes beautifully about daffodils. Or really, he writes about life, about connections and feeding your soul. We hope you enjoy, the poem that follows.
I read this tapestry the other day.
If you have two loaves of bread:
Give one to the poor;
And sell the other to buy daffodils
To feed your soul.
You can't eat flowers;
And if you give your other loaf to the poor
Where's the sense in that?
And what's a soul anyway when it's at home?
No-one's ever seen one.
The vicar went on about it
At Jean's funeral the other day,
He can go on a bit, the Vicar.
She was a good woman.
Down to earth, you know.
Oh my, how we used to laugh together about
Her at the corner shop's hoity-toity ways.
I saw some this morning;
They made me think of Jean
Right by the roadside, growing wild.
No, not Jean: the daffodils!
Oh, dear, that's funny.
I don't think anybody planted them there.
(Well, I suppose somebody must have originally).
Yet there they were:
Chattering away like
A host of souls in Heaven.
They come up every year, you know.
Joyful and energetic.
She was a good friend:
I miss Jean.
I hope she's like the daffodils.
Richard Green, January 2020