a host of daffodils

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

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.

- William Wordsworth

The Host and Amy (pt. 2)

{Inspired by and dedicated to the Pun Master, @gwennyr. I’ve been dishing out a lot of heavy angst lately, so let’s calm things down a bit!}

A warm breeze ruffles Amy’s hair, and the sunlight dappling across the two of them through the leaves feels good on her skin. It’s the kind of day that can’t be spent indoors, the kind where the air is fresher, the grass is greener, and the sky is bluer.

“What is this?” the Host asks, raising a quizzical eyebrow. The beverage is cold in his hands, but if he’s right, the liquid inside is coffee. “Is it some form of witchcraft?”

Amy giggles uncontrollably and takes a sip of her own drink as she and the Host enjoy a peaceful walk through the park. The blind Ego leaves the library but rarely, and even rarer are the times that he leaves Ego Inc. But Amy thought it would be good to get him outside for a while after he started to look a little sickly. “It’s an iced, dark roast coffee, my favorite!”

The Host sniffs at it and makes a face. It isn’t a distasteful smell, but it’s so… different from what he’s used to. “Is it poisoned?”

Amy scoffs at him and pokes the Host in the side. “Oh, come on, you big baby. Just try it!”

Another moment passes as the Host takes time to gather his courage, and then, quickly—before he can change his mind—he takes a sip. He shudders and makes a face, “Ack, it’s terrible! How do you drink this?”

The golden-haired girl snorts and hugs her sides, laughing at the Host’s horrified expression. “I guess it’s a bit of an acquired taste!” She straightens and trades him his drink for a blueberry muffin. “Here, nobody hates blueberry muffins. They’re like manna from heaven.”

The Host smiles happily at the treat. “Oh, yes, I like these very much.” He pinches off a chunk and pops it into his mouth, sighing at the sweetness of it.

“So, you really like sweet things, huh?” Amy asks, pulling the Host a little bit closer so that he doesn’t walk into a small child drawing on the sidewalk. She’s noticed that when the Host isn’t narrating, that he needs more help to be aware of his surroundings.

The Host nods in agreement but stops when he feels something tug at his coat—which he wears in all weather. Amy and the Host turn to see—and sense—a small child looking up at the Host with wide, brown eyes. “What happened to your face?” the child asks, far too loudly for the Host’s liking.

“The small child did not realize they were a nuisance to the Host. They asked the question out of ignorance of its painful answer.” The Host backs up a few steps and trips over someone’s dog as they passed by. Amy lunges to catch him, but since the Host is so much heavier than her, they both end up sitting in the grass.

The little kid screams and runs away, and its only then that Amy notices that the Host’s bandages have slipped down from over his eyes—or rather, lack thereof. With one swift motion, the Host pulls the bandages back into place and gets up, walking swiftly away.

“Wait, Host!” Amy grabs what’s left of their spilled drinks and the smashed muffin, shoves them into a nearby trashcan, and runs after him. When she catches up to him she hears him narrating in third person, trying to find his way back to Ego Inc.

“The Host shouldn’t have left his library. Trouble always follows the Host wherever he goes, and he didn’t want to embarrass Miss Amy.” He won’t stop for her, even when Amy reaches for his arm. He shrugs her off and keeps going.

“Host, please, I’m not embarrassed! I’ve loved getting to spend the day with you,” Amy says as she wraps her arms around his middle in a hug. “You don’t have to come out of your library just for me. I only want to try to help you, that’s all.”

The Host sighs softly. He’s become more accustomed to Amy’s gentle hugs, and he knows that she means well. The Host softly places a hand over Amy’s. “The H… I am trying very hard to become accustomed to who I am now, but it is not easy.”

Amy takes a step back and tries to give the Host a reassuring smile. “I know, Host, and I know that you’ll find yourself again one day. These things just take time, but you won’t get there hiding yourself away in the library all day long.”

The Host nods and looks down. After a moment, his face lights up, and he takes a few steps over to reach down and pick a daffodil. The Host strokes the petals gently and then presents the flower to Amy. “Here, a golden flower for a golden girl.”

Amy takes the flower, sticking it behind her ear, and grabs the Host by the hand. “Come on, Hosty. That one earns you another muffin!”

Masterlist

smut - ♡
Fluff- ✿

Monsta X

Shownu 

Wonho 

Lipstick stains - host au series |  

Minhyuk 

Daffodil - fake relationship au series |

Kihyun 

Hyungwon 

Lavender - Libarian au series |  (coming soon…)

Changkyun 

Stressed - boyfriend au |

Fireflies  (coming soon..)


 Requested writings

I love you - BTS Jimin | Reader 

🌾🍂These are wild daffodils - Narcissus pseudonarcissus. Just by our house off the beaten track they carpet the ancient woodlands. These native daffodils are the type that William Wordsworth’s wrote about…“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.” They spread slowly by seed and have become rare in many areas since the mid 19th century. From 1931 to 1959 there used to be Daffodil Specials trains taking Londoners to see them in some English counties.

@krissmacd @instagram

Sunday Funday

Each and every Sunday, we share a poem to lighten our soul. Comment your thoughts, short story or any poem you will love to see in a future post. Don’t forget to follow us like and share.

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

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.

William Wordsworth - I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

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.


The signs as lines of poetry...

Aries:

As long as you’re dancing, you can

break the rules. (Mary Oliver)


Taurus:

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
(Maya Angelou)


Gemini:

My strategy is that some day
I don’t know how, nor with what pretext
That finally you need me.
(Mario Benedetti)


Cancer:

I weary for desires never guessed,
For alien passions, strange imaginings,
To be some other person for a day.
(Amy Lowell)


Leo:

Even asleep we partake in the becoming of the world. (Czeslaw Milosz)


Virgo:

Love at the lips was touch
As sweet as I could bear
And once that seemed too much
I lived on air.
(Robert Frost)


Libra:

Everyone in me is a bird
I am beating all my wings.
(Anne Sexton)


Scorpio:

To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
To hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And Eternity in an hour.
(William Blake)


Sagittarius:

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.
(William Wordsworth) 


Capricorn:

For I have known them all already, known them all:
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons;
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.
(T.S. Eliot)


Aquarius:

The calm,
Cool face of the river
Asked me for a kiss.
(Langston Hughes)


Pisces:

But we were a maybe
and never a must
when it should have been us.
(Lang Leav)

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.

4

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.
.

William Wordsworth (1815)

I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud

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 leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but 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.

- William Wordsworth

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.

William Wordsworth

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.

—  William Wordsworth, I Wander’d Lonely as a Cloud
Route 777 Pt. 2

Summary: Natsu Dragneel, a loner in high school coasting through his senior year with his head down and earphones on. That is, until there’s a new stop on the bus route one morning… and she steps on board.

an: Pt. 2 to this new little project I’m excited to finally share with you guys! Hope you guys enjoy<3 


He didn’t think about the new girl at all that night, but he was surprised when he looked down at his sketchbook and charcoal-stained hands to see a shy, smiling figure looking up at him.

Natsu didn’t really think about the new girl that night, not until the next morning when he took his spot on the bus and found himself wondering where he should leave his bag.

It’s usual spot was in the seat beside him to keep away any stray freshman… except for yesterday when he forgot, unintentionally leaving the only available spot up for grabs for the new girl–Lucy–to take.

Natsu thought about it, and left the bag sitting beside him.

She probably wouldn’t even ride the bus today.

The girl was a bit odd and quiet, but she was pretty. The blonde hair and big, brown eyes was perfect camouflage in a high-school setting. It wouldn’t take her long to make friends, meaning Natsu could leave his backpack in the seat.

But, despite his own reasoning, he still found himself setting the bag to the floor when the bus pulled up to the last stop.


In his second period that morning, he decided that yesterday had to have been a fluke. While he had never been one for literature, it’s possible that he’d been more encaptured by the poem itself than the girl’s voice.

It would explain the multitude of tigers and flames that littered the pages of his sketchbook that night.

So, for the second time that week, Natsu raised his hand to request to see the counselor for a class change.

“Miss Heartfilia,” the teacher started class by ignoring Natsu’s raised hand and calling on the new student. “Since you did such a fantastic job for us yesterday, would you mind flipping to page 77 and reading the first poem there?”

Natsu watched as the girl quietly flipped to the correct page, took a deep breath, and began to read:

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.

Perhaps her voice was so enchanting because for once the words weren’t just an endless drone. She made him envision the scene, so much so that his fingers itched for a paintbrush and a large, blank canvas to illustrate the words that she was bringing to life.

Lucy paused only long enough to take a breath before the next stanza, when the teacher raised his hand for her to wait.

“Mr. Dragneel?” the teacher cocked his head to the side as if he were waiting, and it was only then that Natsu realized he still had his hand half-raised.

Thinking fast, Natsu dropped his hand to his lap and sheepishly asked for the page number.

His eyes bored a hole in the mystery girl’s back as she continued with the poem.

There was no way he was transferring out now.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hey Azra, I loooove ur blog especially when I'm sad about things it is soo cathartic! But I was wondering if you had writtem anything about being happy? or at least not so violent? and could link me to it please!! It doesn't have to be about like puppies or a host of daffodils but maybe just doing somethin with your boo and not tearing each other to pieces? can't wait for the book xxx

Omg this is so cute I’m laughing so hard you’re very gently telling me “Azra, you’re a bloody moody cow, get a grip and write something happy!” I have, I swear I have, it doesn’t happen often but they exist and here’s a list of a few I found: 

All my love, x 

4/4/15

I was knocked out
for so many days
that I missed spring begin

earlier it reached down
to tossle my hair

I heard my dad describe
this year’s fledgling garden

“A host of yellow daffodils!” he says

Only his words get caught in
the long tangle of his beard
So it sounds like

“The ghosts should appreciate them”