Sighting Poem by Ima Ryma

Within the cold and numbing womb
Is formed this one unique alone.
The freezing forces come to bloom,
To birth this one of nature's own.
This one awaits with countless more
Till beckoned by an icy blast
To where this one's not been before.
In nature's way this one is cast
In chilled white that does now go free,
A whirling work of art so grand,
En route to final destiny,
When it is this one's time to land.

'Marge, a lovely is in your hair.'
'A snowflake has just landed there.'