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!