Hope

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers ~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 […]

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Snowed In On Green Hill Farm

Acrostic poetry by Tonya R. Hengerer “Snow” Softly falling– Not a sound, Only Whirling, whirling to the ground.   “Winter” When Icy, cold weather Naturally interrupts The warmth Enjoyed upon Earth Radiated by the sun.   “Shovel” Something with which one Heaves snow Out of the way; a Very useful, Everyday tool–mostly Languishing in a shed until winter.  

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I Have a Confession….

I have to admit that I find this time of year a little drear.  Not only is it gray and bleak outside, but it’s also freezing cold.  And, to make matters worse, the sun goes down around 5 p.m.  The combination of gray, bleak, cold, and dark is somewhat of a downer.  Plus, all the merry-making has come to a […]

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