Each intricate snowflake that lands on your glove
Or diagonals its way to the ground
pray wish for conditions to favour its stay
As much beauty in them can be found.
Their life story starts when the temperature falls
To between two and zero degrees
The precipitation falls away from a cloud
Pulled by gravity, destined to freeze
In high atmosphere, the thin air is not clear
It is sprinkled with pollen and dust
Extremely cold droplets of water stick fast
And encase each in hard icy crust
So there is its birth, and the embryo grows
From crystal so tiny and pure
The journey to Earth sees it widen its girth
As vapour collects more and more
It's crystalline arms grow in numbers of six
And all mirrored in sweat symmetry
The molecules merge, with arrangement they fit
Like they knew where their place had to be.
More wondrous still is how each is unique
Not ever can two be alike.
Conditions are constantly in state of flux
On the path that they take whilst in flight.
A selection of prisms and Lacey designs
Or needles and feathery fluff
Make sure you take time to examine a few
If they manage to last long enough!