Childhood Collection Poem -4 Comments

The dream girl now seems matured enough.

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. A poem full of hope!

Indeed, The Lord will help you to win every fight in your life as long as you are brave to stand until he fulfills all his promises for your life. beautiful and passionate poem, Well done!