Plant a Yellow Ring
Around an Old Oak Tree
Beyond this valley
And these hills
There stands an old oak tree
Surrounded by a ring of daffodils

Past every Winter
Towards every Spring
There appears an almost magical thing

Up through the cold, dank, dark
Uninviting earth
Daffodils push their fragile heads
Growing for all their worth

It is when the daffodils appear
Around an old oak tree
That my mother's words float back
From a very distant memory

As she planted daffodil bulbs
Around our old oak tree
A little verse she did recite
Whilst smiling back at me

Her soft voice I no longer hear
Her sweet smile I shall never see
Yet still the daffodils return, every year
Reminding me

And by Gods grace
And in her space
Golden daffodils I see
A ring of love
Smiling back at me
© 2003, Lyn Shailer
Posted here with author's permission.
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