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; --that Wordsworth guy
Spring has sprung, The grass has riz, I wonder where the birdies is. --traditional
SF/fantasy writer. English professor. Episcopalian. Licensed lay preacher. Former volunteer ER chaplain (but not clergy); future, I hope, ER patient advocate. Intermediate knitter; beginning weaver.
And a few other things, less easily labeled. The title of this blog is a phrase John Clute used to describe the plots of my first two novels. It both amused and annoyed me, and I finally decided to reclaim it as a badge of honor. Would you prefer rickety contrivances of doing bad?
I wandered lonely as a cloud
ReplyDeleteThat floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
--that Wordsworth guy
Spring has sprung,
The grass has riz,
I wonder where the birdies is.
--traditional