Snowdrops (Poetry)

Their emerald shoots, undaunted, grow
raise silent bells tugged to and fro
by bully winds that wheeze and blow
the slender stems, shake milk-white flowers
held stiff, enduring frozen hours
like sentinels, while life below
sleeps on beneath a caul of snow.

A test of faith each turning year
that earth will wake and bulbs appear,
and so dispel a nagging fear
this winter won’t forgo its hold
while too-short days drag dull and cold
still gloomy, yet the first brave spear
heralds hope release is near.