Hope is the thing with feathers (254)

Emily Dickinson, 1830 – 1886

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.

Author: rharrisonauthor

International man of mystery. Well not really, although I can mangle several languages and even read the occasional hieroglyphic. A computer scientist, an author and one of the very few people who has both an NIH grant and had a book contract. An ex- booktrope author and a photographer.

One thought on “Hope is the thing with feathers (254)”

Comments are closed.

Kevin Drum

Cats, charts, and politics

Moosmosis

Global Health and Education

She Reads Reviews

Historical Fiction, YA, Fantasy, Contemporary, Literary, and Non-fiction Book Reviews

Makabiyahe

To Travel, To Explore

Bedrock & Paradox

I dream of a hard and brutal mysticism in which the naked self merges with a non-human world and yet somehow survives still intact, individual, separate. Paradox and bedrock.

Opulence

Freelancing, Art, and Side Hustles

Blog about Mexico's Must Have Seen

Playa del Carmen, Tulum, Cancun, Riviera Maya, Cenotes, Sian Ka'an, Cozumel, Bacalar, Mahahual, Monterrey...

Disturbed Literature

Writings of Jambo Stewart

J. A. Allen

Scribbles on Cocktail Napkins

O at the Edges

Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.

Laugh With Me

This WordPress.com site is the bee's knees

Little Fears

Tales of humour, whimsy and courgettes

charles french words reading and writing

An exploration of writing and reading

%d bloggers like this: