Hope 1 by 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 chillest land,
and on the strangest sea,
yet, never, in extremity,
it asked a crumb of me.

Here is a poem that i really liked, I had it memorized but like usual i forgot it the next morning. Hope you enjoy.

I love the sound of the pouring rain by Jim Jimenez Duban

'Rain'

I sit here thinking alone in the rain, thinking of my sorrow, misery, and pain. I sit here listening to the thunder crashing down, knowing my life is better when you’re around.. As I sit here watching the storm roll on, all I think about is you, and how you are gone. As I look at the dark clouds above, I sit here and wonder whom you’re thinking of.. It’s like the sky is crying and I am too, thinking of how I’m missing you. I miss your hugs and gentle touch, and the way you tell me you care for me so much.. I miss the way you kiss me and make me feel, I hope when you come back your feelings are still real. Now as I look up at the clear sky above, I’m thinking of you, and I think I’m in love..

Hey, so I've decided to quit writing my current book because it just reminds me to close of another book, so I'm going to start afresh and just see what happens.

Cold

The cold seeps into the skin, chilling it to the heart. The cold does not see nor hear, but it feels, we wonder if it has a mind of its own or just a heart nor does anyone know if it's blue, purple, or gray. If its warm or cold. Does the wind have a home of its own or does it uninviting visit house after house, the next to the next, winter after winter? Does it have brothers or sisters or even a mother and father? Does it have a cat or a dog or is it just lonely? Lonely for love, companionship, or even just a mere friend. The cold, the wind is just anonymous as the name of every sand of grain or every little tiny leaf on a tree that falls to the earth heavenly.

Summer and Fall

I feel my summer passing me by,
It blows and blows away from me,
The sound of children playing dwindles to my ear,
The noise of teenagers in the night air starts to stop,
Even the trees and flowers start to change in color, some following death,
I feel myself getting older every minute day by day,
I feel the sun's rays stop to shine as brilliantly as before,
I feel the temperature drop and drop by the hour,
I feel the coming of fall, the breeze, the trees, the colors,
I know things will start to go the same as I was three months younger,
I know that life will go back to calming down, waiting until the next vacation and summer,
Why does summer have to run by as quickly?
But I know that balance has to be done, or else the world would be dead to us.

Red Roses

Red roses are the beauty of life,they are red as the sun in the middle of summer.
They smile when the breeze blows past them, asking, asking how their day was.
They smile when you look at them, and tell them that they are beautiful.
Red roses are the beauty of life, they are red as the sun in the middle of summer.

Red roses are the beauty of life, they are red as the sun in the middle of summer.
They wait, waiting for the new day to begin, waiting for you to stroll by.
They wait, waiting for the moon to come say good night.
Red roses are the beauty of life, they are red as the sun in the middle of summer.

Red roses are the beauty of life, they are red as the sun in the middle of summer.
They sing, singing in with the winds melody that blows throughout the land.
They sing, with passion and beauty in their voices that makes you want to stay and listen forever.
Red roses are the beauty of life, they are red as the sun in the middle of summer.