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Thursday, December 31, 2009
Neither cynic nor pessimist would be able to resist the catapult of these words :-)
HOPE IS THE THING WITH FEATHERS
By Emily Dickinson
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.
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SPACE, TIME, AND BEYOND
ENERGY IN MOTION . . . OR 'EMOTION'
DIVING INTO BLOGDOM
Stay tuned for poems of ridiculous beauty!
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