868 and 869

My lovely Daffodil, whose eye meets mine,

who droops just low enough to see my heart,

who could spend all her days with men more fine,

but looks with love at me—at every part.

My lovely Daffodil, keep looking on,

allow me to be better for your gaze;

and let me flourish even as I fawn

for you for endless sunny April days.

My lovely Daffodil, who makes up Spring

with every look, with every yellow blush,

make me your precious one, your everything,

make me yours even as my shy cheeks flush.

My lovely Daffodil, do as you will,

but let me come with you, dear Daffodil.

~~~

They told me: authentic is the best prize,

and so I searched for authenticity,

making myself authentic to all eyes

that ever authentically found me.

But research said a different tale,

and said that value was the best reward;

and so I added pennies to my pail

to prove my prize was something to afford.

And then the prize had naught to do with me—

the value was what was the thing to buy;

and none of the sound authenticity

could be seen, now that there was stock to spy.

Still, some saw both, but I could not discern

the ones who saw how hard-fought both were earned.