Tuesday, February 21, 2012

"Hope" is the thing with feathers—

"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


A Brit in Tennessee said...

I just love this poem, thank you for making me smile today :)

BaileyZimmerman said...

Kim....beautiful poem....Emily sure could write! I'm honored that you included my collage with her poem!

KathyB. said...

The poem and collage seem meant for each other, beautiful collaboration!


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