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Crocuses, Crocuses, How You Grow

by Annette Wynne

Crocuses, crocuses, how you grow,
Like a lot of soldiers in a straight row;
I would be your captain, give the command,
But you only stare at me and stupidly stand,
Helmeted in yellow and purple and reds;
But for all your straight lines and soldierly heads,
Not a step you march forth nor answer my call—
So I'm afraid, crocuses, you're not soldiers at all!

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