A poem while sick

by nomeatbarefeet

Both of us have been sick for the past week, so running has been a bit fat “zero.” To cheer me up, and hopefully bring thoughts of warmer weather, I decided to post a poem by William Wordsworth. I’m hoping that the last verse with be me while I lay on the couch drugged up and blowing my nose. “Perhaps solace and relief will come my way—and out to the trails I’ll return someday; soon I hope for my feet can’t bear—to be stuck, unmoving, while I write this in my chair.” Hope all of you are well. See you on the trails.


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.