...half hidden from the eye

I did a quick whip around the house this morning with a duster, cloth and Mr Dyson, followed by a quick bit of garden maintenance. Then, after a cup of tea, I persuaded Mr Flossmo to accompany me to the local pharmacy to pick up a prescription. The route to the pharmacy follows a number of footpaths which are thick with vegetation after the recent intermittent rain and sunshine. I almost missed the tiny, wild cyclamen congregated in a small patch amongst the weeds. They instantly reminded me of one of my father's favourite poems:

She Dwelt Among the Untrodden Ways
(William Wordsworth)

She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A Maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love:

A violet by a mossy stone
Half hidden from the eye!
—Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky.

She lived unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be;                                  
But she is in her grave, and, oh,
The difference to me!


It's funny how something sparks a memory.  It led me to think of the many times my father would get his Palgrave's Golden Treasury out of the bookcase and read a few poems to my mother and myself. 'Lucy' doesn't feature on my list of favourite poems but it is a reminder of happy days.