A Field of DaffodilsTwo yellow buds, perched up in a old oak tree,Were daffodils, swaying ever so gently and free.On a sunny-bright day of a warm mid summ-ah,They lightened the air with their sweet aroma.The daffodils bore a great family, Blessed with children, of the square root of eighty-one, quite naturally.They were all different – not all of them sweet,One was bitter, one was sly, one hid behind a tree root, why she’s ever so shy!But as you may already know, all children must grow,And soon those daffodils, had children of their own.A third of the children though, still innocent and carefree,The thought of having a child still made them a bit queasy.Half of the remaining, who thought they could take up the weight,Were delighted when each had daffodils, of the cube two.The final third were privileged with children four each,They were all beautiful childrwwen, a pleasure to teach.

One sunny morning, in the vibrant sunlight of spring,Daffodil seeds descended from the sky, as the birds began to sing.Cousins, carried by the wind, were here to stay for good. Why they came here, no one had ever understood,But there was something they were all sure of:That morning, daffodils the cube of four came flying from above,And it was amazing.

As the fact that children must grow,It is also true, that everything will eventually become old.One solemn day, with not a single drop of rain,Sixteen daffodils, wilted away.No longer yellow, no longer vibrant, and nothing left unsaid,They gradually fell to the ground, brown, and quite dead.

As the years go on, the original family of daffodils become a field of yellow,And by the end of winter, they had long multiplied by four, into a grand field of flower fellows.But when drought came along, sadness lingered close by.An unknown amount of daffodils, gathered their families to bade their goodbyes.

Now, my dear friend,I thank you for sticking with me all along, and I hope you’ve comprehend.I ask of you then,If the sum of twenty “y”, and half of one hundred forty-nine was equal to the number of yellow flowers,Then, my friend,You must give me your wisdom to lend,

How many daffodils, left during the drought?

Written and Created by: Joyce Wong 8F

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Page Design Survey: Grade 9 Students

*Feel free to answer in Yes / No form, but it would be preferable if sentences and comments were written.

1. Was the algebraic equation clearly conveyed in the poem? If so, please write out the equation extracted from the poem.

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2. Did the poem sound poetic? (Did the poem sound like an equation, or an actual poem?)

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3. Were the artistic elements of the page design innovative and original?

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4. Was the poem readable when on the page design?

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5. Did the artistic sides of the page design include the elements of design of color and pattern, and did the elements create emphasis?

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7. Were the colors used in the page design appropriate for the topic?

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8. Were any skills (lasso, crop, color correction, opacity) from Photoshop used on the photographs / background? Were the skills used effective?

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9. Were there exactly two fonts used? Were the fonts appropriate for the page design?

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10. Were all levels of BEDMAS included in the math equation?

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