Daffodils Magic Hands

Hello! Come on, everybody, take a seat.

Wow!

Woo!

BOTH: Hello!

-BOTH:

-Hello!

Wiggle your fingers and cross your feet.

Are you ready?

One, two, three, watch me.

Four, five, six, I've got some tricks.

Seven, eight, nine, it's almost time.

Ten!

ALL: Magic hands!

# Just look at my magic

# My magic hands

# Make your fingers super-duper. #

Magic Hands!

-BOTH:

-Hello.

I'm...

And I'm...

Look at what my hands can do!

Oh!

A whistle!

I wonder if I can play it.

Oh, it's beautiful!

Because I'm deaf, I can't hear the music,

so I like to watch it instead.

I like watching when people play.

I can also feel the vibrations as the flute is played.

Music makes me want to dance!

Ooh! This all reminds me of a poem,

written by a woman called Elizabeth Barrett Browning,

it's called A Musical Instrument.

Oh, yes! There's a god in it called Pan.

He's a bit strange-looking because he's half man and half goat.

Pan is very important, though.

He's the god of country music and he makes beautiful music

from a whistle made using reeds from the river banks.

Sometimes, Pan can be a bit naughty, though.

Do you want to meet him?

Are you ready?

What was he doing, the great god Pan...

..down in the reeds by the river?

Spreading ruin and scattering ban.

Splashing and paddling with hoofs of a goat,

and breaking golden lilies afloat

with the dragonfly on the river.

He tore out a reed,

the great god Pan,

from the deep cool bed of the river.

The limpid water turbidly ran

and the broken lilies a-dying lay,

and the dragonfly had fled away...

ere he brought it out of the river.

High on the shore sat the great god Pan,

while turbidly flowed the river.

Hacked and hewed as a great god can,

with his hard bleak steel at the patient reed,

till there was not a sign of a leaf indeed

to prove it fresh from the river.

He cut it short, did the great god Pan.

How tall it stood in the river!

Then drew the pith, like the heart of a man,

steadily from the outside ring,

and notched the poor, dry, empty thing

in holes, as he sat by the river.

"This is the way," laughed the great god Pan,

laughed while he sat by the river,

"the only way, since gods began

"to make sweet music, they could succeed."

Then, dropping his mouth to a hole in the reed,

he blew in power by the river.

Sweet, sweet, sweet, oh, Pan,

piercing sweet by the river.

Blinding sweet, oh, great god Pan.

The sun on the hill forgot to die

and the lilies revived,

and the dragonfly came back to dream on the river.

What a lovely poem!

I know another poem, about flowers,

it's written by a famous poet called William Wordsworth.

It's called Daffodils.

In this poem, we'll see the lovely daffodils,

with their yellow trumpets dancing in the wind.

Are you ready to dance with them?

I wandered, lonely as a cloud

that floats on high o'er vales and hills,

when all at once I saw a crowd,

a host of golden daffodils.

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

fluttering and dancing in the breeze...

..continuous as the stars that shine

and twinkle on the Milky Way...

..they stretched in never-ending line

along the margin of a bay.

10,000 saw I, at a glance,

tossing their heads in a spritely dance.

For oft when on my couch I lie,

in vacant or in pensive mood,

they flash upon that inward eye

which is the bliss of solitude.

And then my heart with pleasure fills

and dances with the daffodils.

What a lovely poem!

Did you enjoy that?

I love daffodils.

They're so pretty and brilliantly yellow.

I love how the poet makes it sound as if daffodils are people

dancing in the wind.

When you're out and about in springtime,

keep your eye out for the daffodils.

Go up to them and say hello, but don't pick them.

We want them to stay alive and be beautiful.

-Bye-bye!

-Bye!

-ALL:

-Magic Hands!

# Just look at my magic

# My magic hands

# Make your fingers super-duper. #

Magic Hands!