rugged copper
Summer daffodils bask in the glare
Of the sun's unrelenting charity;
Their soft hands, outstretched
And lusting,
Sprawl themselves
And reveal their delicate fragrance
Which tosses up to the honey bees
And strokes their bristled coats,
Nectar-kissed and burdenless,
And quenches the dry whispers
Of the foliage beyond
The thicket's edge.
But darkness lulls my weary head,
Just behind the window's edge—
And on the chilling hard-wood, rests
My face, solemnly pressed against.
Alas, heed my invocation,
O, solaceful Nyx;
Firmly grasp my hand and guide me
To the summer daffodils.
marsh hornet