Hope
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
3 comments:
That really is a beautiful poem. I love words. I am so grateful that words can evoke so many wonderful things: emotions, peace, understanding, enlightenment, and beauty to name a few.
This is one of my favorite poems--it's by Edna St Vincent Millay: My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends It gives a lovely light.
I don't have to tell you how I feel about words! I can't draw pictures, but I can draw pictures in words.
This is a lovely poem. I listen to a lot of poems dressed in music, and there are so many good ones out there!
And the poem, for me, has become a wonderful healing tool during an interesting life journey!
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