The Snowdon Lily Poem by Paul Reed

It's delicate white face only fleetingly seen
In unlikely places for hope to fledge
Vaunted high above in mountainous scene
Precarious home in crevasse and on ledge

No tales to tell and no tears to weep
But survival it's merry theme
In rocky terrain it's roots to creep
Clinging high under cold sunbeam

For the Snowdon lily this lofty setting
Where tired feet arrive and then depart
With climber's backward glimpse regretting
The leaving of this brave white heart