"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 BirdThat 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.

Description

    No matter where you are Hope is always there.  A tropical flower able to bloom in our living room in Louisville Ky.  Hope is Home, where you are accepted for who you are, "never, in Extremity, / It asked a crumb - of Me" or "sore must be the storm -/ That could abash" the hope "That kept so many warm -"