The magic of poetry


If we’re having a coffee session right now then I would love to tell you that how much I felt afraid of poetry and the long list of poets in the paper of “American literature” was haunting me but on reading John Ashbury’s Melodic Train and Sylvia Plath’s Ariel, I started to enjoy its beauty.

I remember reading Daffodils in my school days. It’s been a long time and this morning I decided to read it again. So, sitting on my bed I made myself comfortable with pillows on my back. I placed headphones in my ears and with the single click of the mouse, magic of daffodils started to play.

Would you like to feel the same magic?


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.
writing 101: update your readers on a cup of coffee

14 thoughts on “The magic of poetry

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