Hope springs

Another summer’s green-leafed glory

AliBailey

No matter how bleak the winter
No matter how bare the tree
Still, in spring, each twig
Dreams big.
Silver tips
Bud,
Unfurl:
Emerald curl;
In sure belief of summer’s sun, yet to come,
A verdant host of new leaves grow
Catching life’s good golden glow:
Benediction.
Hope – not fiction.

Let me be, like that tree,
Ever primed to start again.
After pain,
After cost,
Hope’s not lost.

Leaves catch light from high above
Hearts re-grow to capture love.
Another chapter to our story,
Another summer’s green-leafed glory.

14 thoughts on “Hope springs”

  2. Reblogged this on Mitch Teemley and commented:
    My Featured Blogger this week is Ali Bailey, a UK-based poet who, in her own words, has “never found a use for this habit.” And so, she says, “I thought I would just gather my poems together here, in one place, in the hope that they might make you smile.”

    They do. Every time I visit her blog. And I’m pretty sure her warm, sanguine, and frequently witty words will do the same for you.

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  6. Mitch sent me : ) (sort of).
    Since childhood, trees have been shall I say, giant, majestic friends to me. I admire many along my travels. Now I see them as creations to mimic in the way you have shared. Also, “Emerald curl” was so simple and accurate, It was a pleasantly unexpected genius addition to me.

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