Daffodils For Mom

It was in the spring of my youth and the sight of daffodils now fill my mind.
It was memories of woods and fields and the sweet smell of adventure to find.
It was of this that I thought about mom today, and that of a time long ago from the past.
I thought about how on that spring day she made me feel, and how in my heart it will forever last.

If I would venture to say of this day I was probably about the age of nine, maybe ten.
I recall the air was crisp and the sky was clear; there was a light chill from a northwest wind.
I was elated in the discovering new worlds all whilst conquering old ones in my mind.
Through the creeks and streams I had trod, stopping only to explore this world divine.

The sun was my watch, but it was more my stomach than the sun that said its lunchtime.
I knew that I had better hurry over the fields and down the way to get back home.
For if I was late for lunch my mom would surely without doubt whip me to the bone.
So to the east I did run as fast as I could, I then turned a little north and beneath a tree I stopped to rest.
 
Sharp pangs tore up and down my side I was going to be late and no answer would I have when mom asked.
I leaned hard against the tree, I panted and heaved, and it was then that I saw the daffodils beneath an old hickory tree.
Self preservation quickly kicked in, as I began to gather one daffodil after another again and again.
With my bouquet of flowers gripped tightly now in my small hand I made my way the rest of the way home.
 
With the flowers hidden behind my back I walked into the kitchen where my mom stood.
She was finishing up making sandwiches and only asked was I hungry and where had I been.
It was then that I held out the flowers with their yellow hues, I looked at her and said these are for you mom, I sure do love you.
She smiled a smile so big that I can still see it today; she gave me a hug and a kiss and said I love you too.

Mom has been gone now five years or more, and every now and then I feel she is closer than ever before.
Oh these yellow daffodils galore and the country dreams of a little boy. Life is no matter what comes our way is truly good.

J. Allen Wilson © 8/2007