““Every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other.” -Charles Dickens-
Friday, November 16, 2012
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Sunday, November 11, 2012
FROM MO
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,
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.
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I’ve heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
-Emily Dickinson-
Beads. Quail wishbone, Crested pigeon feathers and a few Rainbow Lorikeet feathers, First verse of "HOPE" by Emily Dickinson
Beads. Quail wishbone, Crested pigeon feathers and a few Rainbow Lorikeet feathers, First verse of "HOPE" by Emily Dickinson
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)