I was googling “dancing daffodils” (I had my reasons) and found this fascinating poem by chance. It starts with a beautiful line, a familiar state of mind. I wandered lonely as a cloud – sheer brilliance. But the sense of familiarity and solace doesn’t end there.
I wasn’t particularly drawn to Wordsworth’s work; I knew it was out there, I read few lines at some point, but wasn’t eager to read further. However, after finding this poem, which speaks of a memory capable of transforming loneliness into blissful solitude, I’ll definitely keep exploring his oeuvre, even if this poem is only a glimmer of light in the surrounding darkness – I seriously doubt it.
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
* Credit: Book cover via Goodreads
Daffodils via spillwords.com