Hope's Miracle

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Hope's Miracle

Furious flames raging in the hallway
Mocking the sparks of true love
Kneeling with desperate pleas for safety
But the fires' flames boiled upon the tempered windows
The scorching heat drew upon the doorway
For a brief moment they thought their pleas remained unheard
Deaf, they delivered a miracle amidst the tragedy before their eyes
They cried as a white jet of foam streamed away the inferno
Their hopes were intact
They could not hear who was there to help
They cradled each other and bundled their miracle
Suddenly, the heat was vanquished and the door opened
The firemen helped them out of the tub of water
They were safe!

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Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

macawmom’s Poems (4)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Hope's Miracle 0
True Love 1
One 1
Another Day 1