Little daffodil, little daffodil
Down under the snow
Little daffodil, little daffodil
I wonder where you will grow.

In the month of May
You will come forth
With your yellow cluster
that all will adore.

Pansies, daises, violets too
Sweet little Jonquils I see
Don't forget the tulips
As they bloom merrily.

Morning glories will be running
with their red and purple hue
I see the dear little Petunias
All sparkling with dew.

I can't forget the fragrant roses
That stand stately in the rain
They open up their little buds
and drop their petals again.

All summer long some flower
will bloom for you and me.
Their loveliness will stay with us
From now until eternity.

And when the chill of Autumn
Comes forth again you know.
The yellow and white Chrysanthemum
will cheer you as you go.

And when the yule tide season
is here again with snow
the holly wreath and mistletoe
Will hang from door to door.

By Kate Brady
February 1967
This poem was composed during
the second snowstorm of Chicago


When April opened her eyes

to the morning sun rise

June was ready in the wings,

but had to wait on May

to have her day

in the central song of spring.


The songs of the birds

in verse without words

filled the sky of blue.

And in the top of the trees

the wind sang melodies

just as singers do.


The sun long ago

had melted the snow

in exuberant anticipation,

of April, May and June

a trio in tune

with natures' celebration.


To help us forget

the long winter nights

and struggles against the cold

to replace them all

with summer star lights

and sun rises of yellow and gold.





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