If a daisy grew every time I thought of you with a smile, all the houses in the world (or at least, in Norway) would have roofs thick with daisies. There would be daisies crowding together in the sidewalk cracks and curling up out of the sewer grates and over the curb, watching us walk by. 

There would be daisies mixing among the roses and the Redwoods, their smiling nodding white heads carpeting lawns and gleaming dimly from the shadowy floor of the  forests. 

When there are too many to fit on the ground they will take to the air, pollinating the robins and the starlings.   They will eventually find their way into every bouquet ever presented to someone's love, and they will even someday dot the sky at night, giving the stars a run for their money.