My diary and, I’m afraid – what’s worse – my head is rather full of WORK at the moment, so, once again, I’m going to have to resort to proffering what Field Marshall Wavell described as Other Men’s Flowers. This is another (slightly premature) poem involving snow and birds, although in this one the far-sighted birds are in a happier situation than they were in the last one.
Thaw : Edward Thomas
Over the land half freckled with snow half-thawed
The speculating rooks at their nests cawed,
And saw from elm-tops, delicate as a flower of grass,
What we below could not see, Winter pass.
The Crimson Rambler 