Lounging in the grass, not doing much of
anything except enjoying the moment
with an iPhone and a cluster of random
daisies. They grow everywhere in the wild.
I couldn’t resist taking these shots on a
lazy summer day and searching for the
See, the grass is full of stars,
Fallen in their brightness;
Hearts they have of shining gold,
Rays of shining whiteness.
Buttercups have honeyed hearts,
Bees they love the clover,
But I love the daisies’ dance
All the meadow over.
Blow, O blow, you happy winds,
Singing summer’s praises,
Up the field and down the field
A-dancing with the daisies.
By Marjorie Pickthall