Drifts of gleaming bright accost the eye.
Breeze stirs, and each dreamily sighs.

Glowing with gold now, hedgerow and field
Carpeted thus, to Sun-god yield,

Who lights up their stage daily, and saves
His warmth for some yellow Spring play.

Gently he sets them a merry dance.
Daffodil days can't help but entrance.

Trumpeting treasures of golden hue
May your spread seed ever accrue.

Fay Slimm

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/trumpets-of-gold/