In the wood amongst the trees,
Clumps of little snowdrops spread.
Not for them the regiment,
Of perfect lines in flower beds.
Here and thereabouts they grow,
No pattern in their choice.
Whenever we encounter them,
Inside we rejoice.
For the season it is changing,
And around the corner, spring.
Welcome are the snowdrops,
And the tidings that they bring.
Entry for
FEBRUARY WK 3 ANY FORM,
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