Smoky Hoss - Final Glory

On the first blade of grass
Rests a frosty little lass,
A delicate cold beauty
Bound by one last winter duty;
Fallen to earth for glories sake
Her time comes so soon to go...
For this, the final fragile flake
Of the concluding winter snow.

Smoky Hoss

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/final-glory/