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.
Her skin was bronze— the kind that's burnt in the sun till it cannot change color anymore. Only her white bangles knew how to make sounds, and to sparkle. They slid up and down and disobeyed her commands. Sometimes her eyes escaped the pail. She let the water run. The more she moved her hands to close the tap the more her bangles clinked and danced against all her silent demands. She never saw me watching her from the balcony. She never knew the ways I'd tried to stop the sun from setting each day so I could watch her longer.