The crocuses were first!

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The Crocuses

They heard the South wind sighing

A murmur of the rain;

And they knew that Earth was longing

To see them all again.

While the snow-drops still were sleeping

Beneath the silent sod;

They felt their new life pulsing

Within the dark, cold clod.

Not a daffodil nor daisy

Had dared to raise its head;

Not a fair-haired dandelion

Peeped timid from its bed;

Though a tremor of the winter

Did shivering through them run;

Yet they lifted up their foreheads

To greet the vernal sun.

And the sunbeams gave them welcome.

As did the morning air

And scattered o'er their simple robes

Rich tints of beauty rare.

Soon a host of lovely flowers

From vales and woodland burst;

But in all that fair procession

The crocuses were first.

First to weave for Earth a chaplet

To crown her dear old head;

And to beautify the pathway

Where winter still did tread.

And their loved and white-haired mother

Smiled sweetly 'neath the touch,

When she knew her faithful children

Were loving her so much.

by Frances Ellen Watkins

Yes, these little crocuses are always the first in my garden, strong little beauties. I'm every year again thrilled to discover that they are out. And the early bees love this energy filling station too. 

Our World Tuesday - Floral Friday  - Image-in-Ink

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