The Snowdrop

Awakened by the whispering cold, The snowdrop peeks from winter’s fold; A fragile grace in purity dressed, Against the frost, it stands impressed.

In tender hues, so soft yet bright, It speaks of warmth, of coming light; A promise sweet in white arrayed, In nature’s heart, hope’s song is played.

So watch them bloom, those snowflakes near, With courage found through chill and fear; In every petal, life’s refrain, A gentle nod, to spring’s domain.

• Helen M B M Maud