Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Hope, my favorite poem....

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

1 comment:

Taos Sunflower said...

That is so beautiful. Thanks, Sandy. You are such a wonderful human being. Those are some lucky farm animals to own you.