
Hope is the only tongue we speak,
A language soft and strong,
In whispers sweet it finds the meek,
In valleys wide and long.
A beacon lit upon the shore,
To guide lost ships at sea,
Through stormy gales, and tempests roar,
A sanctuary free.
The blossoms bloom amid the thorns,
Their petals soft and fair,
And in their midst, a promise forms,
In nature's tender care.
Each morning breaks with golden light,
A dawn of dreams anew,
As shadows fade, and stars take flight,
Our hearts to hope pursue.
In every tear, a silver gleam,
In every sigh, a prayer,
As long as hearts have strength to dream,
Hope's language we will share.
For all who wander, lost and lone,
This tongue of hope we speak,
A comfort for the hearts unknown,
The solace that they seek.
About the Creator
Shimnom
idream.
ibelieveindreams.


Comments (1)
Beautiful , I am very fascinated that you used thorns a lot in your poems.