Hope For HaitiHope
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.
by Emily Dickinson
All proceeds from the sale of this necklace will be donated to the American Red Cross Haiti Relief and Development Fund. Please visit my Facebood Fan page or Artfire. Thanks for caring.
Judy
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.
by Emily Dickinson
All proceeds from the sale of this necklace will be donated to the American Red Cross Haiti Relief and Development Fund. Please visit my Facebood Fan page or Artfire. Thanks for caring.
Judy
