With profound respect and admiration for Emily Dickinson and her poem, "Hope is a thing with feathers," here's my own "take" on "Hope" ...
Hope is a chipmunk, too,
Gathering seeds in July
For whatever winter brings
With December’s snows.
May I learn from him to hope,
That today is just that,
Today, a chance to gather
Whatever goods I'll need
To help me pass from this
Season to the next…
We have chipmonks running near WHERE I LIVE, BUT THE OTHER DAY , a tenant had to go pick on off the street- his days are gone, but there must be others still here.
I feel differently now, but I must admit that I hunted chipmunks for fun when I was young. We ate squirrels, but not chipmunks. Fortunately, they are prolific and often prey for owls and other woodland predators, so I was just one at the time. But chipmunks always presented a vision of hopeful cheerfulness as they chirped and work their way carefully along logs and stumps of ancient trees.
This is my personal inspirational book of poetry. It contains many poems written for family, friends, and relevant life situations. Hopefully you will find some that will encourage and inpsire you in whatever arena you are found in your circle of l
Dear readers, this is my third book of poems, and inside are a special collection of what have turned out to be not only MY personal favorites, but also the favorites of many of YOU. Some of these have never been available in print before...
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