How gentle the first flower of Spring, <br />So innocent and stout <br />It bursts with strength the icy ring <br />And waves it's head about; <br /> <br />Its tendrils are as light as feathers <br />It braves the errant blasts <br />It dares to prophesize the weather: <br />Warm breezes it forecasts. <br /> <br />Oh little flower, how naïve <br />To tempt the Gods of storm, <br />With little wisdom you proceed; <br />What if you are wrong? <br /> <br />The ice will crown your saffron petals <br />Your stem will droop and bow, <br />And to the ground your crown will settle, <br />Cold frost upon your brow. <br /> <br />T'is best to wait that final freeze. <br />Oh eager flower of youth, <br />You may catch a cold and sneeze <br />And break a fragile root,<br /><br />David McLansky<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/crocuses-2/
