Image by Christine Sponchia from Pixabay
… and one of my favourite poems …
Hope is the thing with feathers
Emily Dickinson – 1830-1886
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.
continuing the sister theme today, this beautiful poem from Anita…
Image by Pete Linforth from Pixabay ~ Poem by Anita Dawes
I thought this quite apt this morning, as our lives have become a bit of a nightmare lately…
Post will follow shortly…
Image by Giani Pralea from Pixabay ~ #poem by Anita Dawes
In a way, I thought this quotation to be quite significant for us, as rather than making a fuss about all the delays, we have been exercising patience. Luckily, this has paid off, and after months of radio silence, medical appointments have been raining down on us lately from all directions.
I finally received a follow-up appointment on Friday for my blocked cardiac artery. I was beginning to think they had decided, all things being considered due to the current state of the NHS, that my heart could manage on its own. After all, it has been over four months, and I am still here.
My sister now has checkups booked this week for her heart and thyroid, diabetes and iron, so, we have swapped one kind of waiting for another, but there should be some good news at the end!
We’re still kicking!
Anita Dawes and Jaye Marie 