Thursday, April 30, 2009

A Poem in Your Pocket

Oh dear, it's Poem in Your Pocket Day, and I almost missed it! To celebrate the end of National Poetry Month, the organizers--whoever the heck they may be--encouraged people to carry a poem with them today. Or, if that wasn't practical, to share a poem with others.

Well, I still have a few hours, so I'm gonna post you all a poem anyway! This is an Emily Dickinson poem whose cadence of the first lines stays with me always. I dedicate it to Lisa at Laughing Orca Ranch, and to anyone who's planting anything this spring.

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--
And, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

Here's wishing you all a Friday filled with hope!


  1. nice of ya to dedicate it to Lisa, I "hope" she gets to read it.

  2. I love Emily D. - but it's been a long time since I sat down just to enjoy poetry. Now that I'm packing to move to Iowa, I keep stumbling over which books to pack, which to donate, and I end up reading those things I have neglected!

    Nancy in Atlanta

  3. Iowa! Really? That's a big change! You better start blogging if you're gonna drop bombs like that around here. :)

  4. A very lovely poem. Good choice.

    And I really love that pic of Rosie as your header. I smile every time I see it!

  5. I was an Art/English major in college and grew to really love and appreciate the poetry of Emily Dickinson. She is a real treasure (do you know her life's story?) and the imagery of her poetry always grabbed me. So good of you to share one of her beautiful poems with us, Flar. Thank you.

    I am bummed that I missed my opportunity to post a poem, so I will do it here and now. Here's a little limerick I wrote in college:

    The King had a beautiful daughter

    Who was deathly afraid of the water

    One day in their boat

    She fell in the moat

    How to swim, her looks never taught her

    Top THAT Ms. Dickinson!

  6. Awwww, how sweet of you to dedicate to me. I'm honored!
    Such a lovely little poem, too.

    As a lay in my bed, in my 'tower', I can see the tippy top of a juniper tree out of my glass doors. Almost always there is a bird of one kind or another perched there.
    It makes me smile to see those feathery friends. It's as if they are watching out for me and reminding me not to give up. That they are still outside waiting for me to join them again soon. :)

    Thanks again. you touched my heart, my sweet friend.



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