Hope
It’s like the wind carrying mist,
In the deep velvet sky,
Scattered with glistening diamonds.
It’s like a leaf flowing down a silver stream,
Singing as it runs,
The song of the lush green leaves,
In the canopy of wildflowers.
It’s like the silent peaceful clouds,
Brimming on the forget-me-not sky,
Radiating pure happiness.
It’s like the endless sea,
Full of promising possibilities,
It’s hope.
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.
Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| The Rainbow of Tomorrow | 0 | 08/12/2010 |
| What a Wonderful World | 0 | 08/09/2010 |
| Six Seas | 0 | 08/09/2010 |
| The Land of Dreams | 0 | 08/09/2010 |
| Wow | 0 | 08/09/2010 |
| Nature | 0 | 08/09/2010 |
| Imagination | 0 | 08/09/2010 |
| It's Not Over Yet | 0 | 08/09/2010 |
| Snow Bird | 0 | 08/09/2010 |
| Life or Death | 0 | 08/09/2010 |
| Imperfection | 0 | 08/09/2010 |
| Hope | 0 | 08/09/2010 |
| The Secret Night | 0 | 08/09/2010 |
| One Thing They Can't Do | 0 | 08/09/2010 |
| Lost and Found | 2 | 06/14/2010 |
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