What was the last thing you searched for online? Why were you looking for it?
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.

By Emily Dickinson. Published in 1891.
Amazing
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Emily Dickinson is a lovely poet
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Lovely Joey x I love to find feathers and ponder on why I come across them! 🧡
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Good morning Mae. Yes, there is something special about them. Emily Dickinson is so very clever with the depth of the words she uses. They was she talks on hope sitting there inside us….xxx
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Lovely!!
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It’s a pretty poem, isn’t it Daisy? x
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Yeah! A gentle and uplifting portrayal of hope as a quiet, constant source of strength in all of life’s storms.😊
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