Snowdrop Poem by Georgia Hindmarch

I sat and watched as you lay your head
Pale hair illuminating the pain on your face
In a halo of innocent light, soft skin
Smooth as a petal, covered in the dew of your tears.

Any from your chest; at the place of your heart
Instead sprang a single, beautiful snowdrop
As pure as the first dove seen in spring
And as bright as the lush dewdrop on green.

It was arguably not a heart, that's true
But it was something fresher, purer - better
It would bloom to its most beautiful flower
And wither at its most fragile of moments.

Some may say 'Well! But a heart can do that! '
But the heart is a feeble, fragile thing
Too easily damaged and broken beyond any repair
But the snowdrop, you see would bloom again.

And again, and again, and again
With each new coming of the flowering season
Reborn in all its beauty and humble glory
To the place between your ribs

Where your heart should have been.