In winter’s gentle, quiet hold,
Amidst the frost and icy cold,
The snowdrops rise, so pure, so bright,
A beacon in the fading light.

With petals white as winter’s breath,
They brave the chill, defying death,
Their fragile stems, a tender grace,
In barren fields, they find their place.

Beneath the sky, in shades of grey,
They bloom to greet the dawning day,
A silent song of hope they bring,
A whisper of the coming spring.

Oh, snowdrops fair, in winter’s reign,
Your beauty shines through frost and pain,
A symbol of life’s endless dance,
In your soft glow, we find our chance.