My very good friend, photographer Diana Sanders took a lovely shot of a yellow crocus growing wild near her home. She posted the photo to acclaim on her Facebook describing it as:
Like a candle flame amongst the dead leaves. If we get any more hard frosts it won't look so cheerful, though.
It triggered me to write a short poem:
The Feral Crocus
A feral crocus nestles among the long-dead leaves
A glimmer of hope, a tiny, shining candle of life
Its flame burns bright among those oaken thieves
Their dew can’t steal this golden light
But Arctic winds might rustle those chilling leaves
And times are hard and so could be the frost
The dew that’s stilled will begin to freeze
And snuff that flame then forever lost
Still, there is hope as it is overcast
The cloud-filled skies blanket all below
The bloom won’t face an icy blast
And tomorrow, we can bask in that feral crocus glow