On my bike ride this morning I couldn't escape daisies... didn't want to escape them. In the middle of the ride, I thought I'd go home and write a poem about daisies, but before I got there, Wordsworth's poem kept coming to mind every time I came upon another field of flowers.

To the Daisy
by William Wordsworth

Bright Flower!! whose home is everywhere,
Bold in material Nature’s care,
And all the long year through the heir
Of joy or sorrow;
Methinks that there abides in thee
Some concord with humanity,
Given to no other flower I see
The forest thorough!

Is it that Man is soon deprest?
A thoughtless Thing! who, once unblest,
Does little on his memory rest,
Or on his reason,
And Thou would’st teach him how to find
A shelter under every wind,
A hope for times that are unkind
And every season?

Thou wander’st the wide world about,
Uncheck’d by pride or scrupulous doubt,
With friend to greet thee, or without,
Yet pleased and willing;
Meek, yielding to the occasion’s call,
And all things suffering from all,
Thy function apostolical
in Peace fulfilling.