Walking midst the daffodils, that Wordsworth famously wrote about
On the waterside of Glencoyne Bay, everywhere they do sprout.
They grow among the mossy stones, in such a beautiful display.
Some rest upon the stones, as if their heads on a pillow they lay.

They toss and reel and dance, encouraging you stop and them photograph.
With the wind from over the lake that blows upon them, they verily do laugh
Providing much cheer to the simplicity, unity and life along that busy...