Ode To Galanthus Poem by Martin Ward

First love:
purest flower
that dares
when others
hide their modesty,
or hibernate
in frigid linen beds.

Fair Maid of February,
I seek my fill
of your thrills
that never satiate.

Dust the woodland
floors with your
icing-sugar sweetness.

Harbinger of spring,
let your bells
ring-in Candlemas.

Milk-white flowers
in modest camouflage,
nod and play amidst
your verdant leaves.

Snowflakes turned
on Angel's breath
to Eve's bridal posy,
that melts the snow
and heralds spring.

The year is born, and you,
my love, have come again.