Winter thaws its greedy clutch
And green shoots from a softened loam
The dewdrop ice transforms itself
Into a clustered pearl
That sheds and opens to a kinder air
Shyly lilted still to the ground
So that the unassuming passerby
Sees nothing but a pale head cowed
I, however, greet each bud with delight
Scentless and bare although it seems
The snowdrop is spring’s humble herald
The first and most courageous of them all;
The rose and marigold show empty folds
Crimson and ochre in their braggart lust
And knows not the hardship of breaking through
The season of dying misery to tell —
The worse has, and will, always pass.


Author: redgladiola

Creative writer happily predisposed to flights of fancy. You can find my poetry and short prose at

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