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 –I’ve heard it in the chillest land –And on the strangest Sea –Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.
– Emily Dickinson
Come back each day to see my poem a day!
If you are in the Continental U.S. there will be three opportunities for you to win a free copy of my book of poetry, Filters, here, on my FaceBook page or if you sign-up for my weekly meditation, JOURNEY/lex.
And you can download a free copy of an e-book published by Tweetspeak Poetry!
Let the poetry begin!