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To A Snowdrop ©

Patrick Scott Hogg
Cumbernauld, Scotland

Dedicated to The Memory of the Dunblane Children
and the Courageous Parents in The Snowdrop Campaign

Easy, the stream flows off the Ben
Adown the dyke-run, tae the glen.
The fallen grass is solemn, bare:
Alang the head-rig strolls the hare -

Unnoticed, thru the misty morn
Past the oak an' hardy thorn;
At the water, she sniffs the air -
She knows the scent and lingers there.

Returning folliage, comes in sight
Like children bathed in crystal light.
The snowdrops stand, firm an' brave
While Summer lays in Autumn's grave.

Are milk-white petals, Winter's dress?
Is innocence a shield tae press?
What wind, what snaw, what wildest gale
Does blast your limpid cheeks sae pale?

Wee snowdrop - ye gentle flow'r
In a' Nature's glory bower,
Ye stand apart, when nought else charms:
Like babes ripped from a mother's arms,

Ye fold and fall at Winter's close
Withstanding a' that Winter throws:
Spring's harbinger, wi' dewy tear
Ye mind me o' our children dear.

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