I may not have a mansion / I haven’t any land.
Or a paper dollar  / to crinkle in my hand.
But I can show you mornings / from a thousand hills.
And kiss you / and give you / seven daffodils.
I do not have a fortune / to buy you pretty things.
But I can weave you moonbeams / for necklaces and wings.
I can show you mornings / from a thousand hills.
And kiss you / and give you / seven daffodils.
Seven golden daffodils / shining in the sun.
To light our way to evening / when the day is done.
And I will give you music / and a crust of bread.
A pill of / tiny buds  / to rest your head.