Two Spring Blooms
The daffodils lie patiently
beneath the snow and wait for me
to scurry by and softly sing
"Awake my dears, for now it's spring."
The tulips, an impatient breed,
will never any warnings heed
and through the snow their noses poke
the winter's presence to revoke.
And which of these are you, my friend?
Can you the winter's cold rescind
and poke your nose into the air
or do I need to sing you there?